Still Waters
by Thought Reflex
Summary: Treading Water Universe. When Rodney was ten his family abandoned him in the Canadian wilderness with strangers. He didn’t want to be with them. He didn’t like them. But maybe…he needed them.
1. Dusty Roads

**STILL WATERS**

Series: TREADING WATER UNIVERSE

Still Waters should be read after reading the first story in this series titled: Treading Water

**Rating: **PG13

**Warning:** overtones of child abuse/experimentation

**Summary:** Treading Water Universe. When Rodney was ten his family abandoned him in the Canadian wilderness with strangers. He didn't want to be with them. He didn't like them. But maybe…he needed them.

**Disclaimer:** The universe of Stargate and Stargate Atlantis were created by and belong to MGM and everyone else who legally owns them. Not me. So sad.

**Genres**: hurt/comfort, drama, abuse, Sci-Fi.

Author's notes: This is a part of the TREADING WATER universe. This story should technically be read after "Treading Water." I hope you take the time to enjoy (or dislike) that story before you read this, but if you choose not to, then please enjoy this one :D

A big thanks goes out to my Beta Laryn (I may be a little possessive of her) for all her advice and edits. One day I will figure out how to tell the difference between 'then' and 'than.' I promise J

Also, thanks to Kelly and Jess, who are forced to listen to me babble incessantly about all my ideas, the good and the bad.

Please take note of the warnings and enjoy the story!

**Still Waters**

**Chapter one: Dusty Roads**

The thin layer of dust coating the cars windows did nothing to prevent the heat of the sun from radiating in. It was almost unbearably hot but his dad refused to open the windows. He said the air conditioning was cool enough, but the heat swallowed the chilled air coming from the front of the car before it ever reached Rodney. The sun's brightness hurt his eyes, forcing him to squint and giving him a headache.

He didn't notice the trees on both sides of the bumpy dirt road as they drove along, too intent on not becoming nauseous from the heat and movement. He clutched his backpack closer to his chest and hoped that the trip would be over soon.

His dad didn't say anything to him from the front seat, his eyes intent on the road while Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers did their best to fill the tense silence.

Rodney closed his eyes and swallowed thickly, accidentally biting his tongue as they hit a pothole. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter, until the threatening tears evaporated in the baking air. When the car finally came to a lurching stop and the engine turned off, he just sat there, soaking up the silence. It echoed around him and he imagined he could feel the dust settling outside, burying the car once and for all.

His father sighed.

"It's just for the summer, Meredith. You'll be back in time for school." Rodney opened his eyes and watched the back of his father's head as he spoke to the windshield. He didn't bother answering, instead looking out the window to see a log house with a man walking out the front of it. He could hear the screen door clang shut even from here. He looked away, shifting his hold on the bag.

"That's Robert now," his dad announced as he pushed open his door and stepped out quickly. The entire car shook when it slammed shut and Rodney took a deep, shaky breath in the silence. It only lasted a few seconds and then he heard the muffled voices of the two men as they spoke just outside the car. He turned to watch them.

His dad's face was almost blank, closed off as it was so often around Rodney himself. Like it was when he wasn't comfortable or happy to be around him. He wondered what Robert had done to earn that look from his father. Either way the man who stood with his father didn't sound too happy, and Rodney was glad for the barrier of tempered glass, plastic and metal that separated him from them. He could stand the heat inside the car a little while longer.

His dad looked over at him and beckoned. Rodney ground his teeth and sighed. He didn't want to be here, but he didn't have much of a choice. Story of his life, he thought bitterly as he slowly pushed his door open. The air wasn't much cooler outside the car, but it was fresher, not nearly as oppressive. He took a deep breath as he trudged over to the two men, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

"Meredith, this is Uncle Robert," his dad introduced, as if he didn't already know that. "He's agreed to take you in for the summer."

"Great," Rodney mumbled, and then looked up at the man in question. His uncle, whom he'd never met and only heard mentioned at family gatherings, was tall. He looked down at Rodney with sharp blue eyes that were partially hidden under the brim of his cowboy hat. He needed to shave.

They looked at each other a moment before Uncle Robert stuck his giant hand out in greeting, expecting Rodney to shake it. Rodney shied away on instinct, and then looked up at his dad to cover his actions. He begged with his eyes to not be left here. His dad just frowned at him and then looked back at Robert.

"He's a bit shy. He'll get over it soon." He explained away Rodney's lack of manners and stuck out his own hand, hesitatingly, to shake Roberts in his place. "Thanks again for doing this."

"Sure," the man huffed and within a minute they were watching his dad drive away together, his car almost hidden in the trail of dust it kicked up. Rodney's throat felt thick and he resisted the urge to cough. He wished he wasn't here. He really, really just wanted to be at home, locked away in his room, alone.

"Well, get your stuff and I'll show you where you'll be staying," Robert announced and turned on his heel, marching back to the log cabin in long, fast strides. Rodney sighed and picked up the small bag his dad had pulled from the trunk before speeding away.

He couldn't get away from Rodney fast enough.

Rodney stopped just inside the door to the house and blinked in the sudden dimness. It was a nice enough place he supposed, not that he was very familiar with what different houses looked like. He hadn't been inside many that weren't his own families.

On his left there was a living room, two couches that looked like they may have been nice when new sat around a beaten old wood coffee table. Another table sat along the wall with a state of the art radio sitting on top of it, a shelf of tapes organized neatly beside it. There was a woodstove built into the centre of the space, separating the kitchen and dining room from the living area. Its chimney flowed straight up through the ceiling and a large stack of wood was piled against the far wall.

Off to his right there were stairs heading up into a loft of some sort, and just beneath them a short hallway split off from where they stood.

"Living room," his uncle pointed at the couches. "Kitchen" he pointed at the kitchen. "My room" he pointed up the stairs. "Bathroom" he pointed at the first door in the small hallway. "Your room," he swung open the second door and Rodney followed him in, dropping his bag by the door. It was a larger room than Rodney had thought it would be, with a small bed tucked almost against the wall, a large dresser against another, a closet door and two large windows. One window looked out at the front of the house, the dust on the driveway still settling, coating all the trees around it. The other window looked out on mostly forest. There was a wide, well worn path off to one side and he thought he could see a building through the trees.

"You take your time and get settled now. I'll be down that path there at the barn. You can join me when you're ready." His uncle's deep voice carried easily through the room and the man stood there a moment, waiting for a response. Rodney thought about saying thank you, but he really wouldn't have meant it so he kept his mouth shut. After a moment the big man left.

Rodney moved to the far corner and sat down between the bed and wall, hugging his boney knees, his backpack resting at his feet. He stared at the floor.

He heard his uncle come back twice from whatever he was doing outside. He knew the man stopped by his open door and looked in on him. Rodney pretended he wasn't there. He didn't bother coming out when the man told him there was food on the table. He watched the shadows play along the as the sun set and his stomach growled loudly in the silence.

It was dark by the time his uncle came back again, and turned on the light to his room. He blinked up at the man who stared down at him, a frown on his face, and his hat still on his head.

"You need to eat, kid."

"I'm not hungry," he said, and ignored how his disused voice croaked.

"You always been that bad a liar?" Rodney didn't say anything and the man sighed. "I left some food on a plate in the fridge in case you change your mind," he announced. "I'm going to hit the sack, but if you need something you come and get me," he waited for a response and then left, mostly closing the door behind him.

Rodney stared at the door. His eyes felt gritty and his butt had fallen asleep a long time ago. He wasn't sure if his legs would work properly at the moment and his throat hurt from all the dust outside. He didn't want to leave the room, he didn't want to go outside the door and risk bumping into his uncle. He didn't want to talk to the man who had had him dumped in his lap. He wondered what his dad had said to get him to agree to take Rodney in the first place. He thought about how easily his dad had abandoned him here.

Eventually he curled up on the bed, pulling the blankets high even though it was almost too hot to breathe. He didn't cry himself to sleep.

oooOOOooo

The smell of bacon and eggs drew him out of his sleep, the scent heavy in the air and he blinked at the sunlight streaming through his windows. His mouth was dry and his body was sore but he didn't know why. He rolled over and tried to ignore the sounds coming from outside his door, the occasional clang of a pot or cutlery scraping on a table. He heard a voice speaking quietly and he assumed it was his uncle.

What if it wasn't his uncle? His entire body tensed, sleep forgotten as his fear began to take over. What if they had come for him again?

He forced himself to take a few deep breaths and rolled out of bed as quietly as he could. He approached the partially open door and peered out, listening intently. He saw an arm waving a spatula around, heard his uncles voice more clearly.

"…still asleep. He should be up soon, but as far as I could see he was pretty damn tired. He should probably sleep until tomorrow as it is…yeah…yeah, I know. You coming over later? Right, see you then." There was the unmistakable sound of a phone being placed back in its receiver and the arm had disappeared. Rodney waited a moment, listening for other voices but all he heard was Robert in the kitchen.

It had been a false alarm. Rodney sighed in relief and then his stomach growled. He didn't feel all that great right now, he should probably eat something. He hadn't had bacon and eggs in a long time.

He quietly left his room and entered the kitchen. His uncle turned and looked at him, his cowboy hat still firmly on his head.

"You hungry?" he asked gruffly, and then pointed at the table where two places had been set up. "Have a seat," he ordered and Rodney moved to the table, careful to keep the man in his sights at all times. If his uncle noticed this he didn't say anything. He also didn't comment on the fact that Rodney was still wearing all the clothes he'd arrived in the day before. Including the shoes.

Bacon, eggs, toast and baked beans were piled onto his plate. He waited until his uncle sat and watched him take the first bite of food before he took a bite himself. It had all come from the same pan, so if there were any kind of drug in it then Robert would be ingesting it as well. He didn't think the man had any reason to do that to him, but if there was anything he'd learned it was that it didn't hurt to be cautious.

"Thanks," he mumbled when he was finished and took his dishes to the sink.

"No problem. Just leave the dishes there, we'll do them later." Rodney did as asked and then went back to his room. He slowly unpacked his things. If his dad hadn't come back for him by now then he knew the man wouldn't, despite how much he had asked to no be left here.

"There's not much to do around here," he spun around as his uncle spoke up from his doorway and glared at the man for scaring him. "Throw on some old clothes and you can help me muck the stalls," he announced and left. Rodney stared at the door. Muck the stalls? What did that even mean?

When he followed his uncle to the barn he learned pretty quickly and decided that maybe he'd just traded one hell for another.

oooOOOooo

Bobby watched the kid out of the corner of his eye, making sure he didn't hurt himself as struggled to push the wheelbarrow to the manure pile at the end of the small paddock. The boy didn't look happy, not in the least, but at least he was doing something other than sitting in the corner of his room like the condemned. Bobby usually had a lack of tolerance for people who did things like that, child or adult, but this time he had let it slide.

His instinct told him to not push it, and he'd always trusted his instinct.

At least the physical labour had made the kid talk more, even if it was only to complain about the work, the heat, the dirt, and the diseases that were probably lying in wait for them.

The kid complained like his mother.

When they were done Meredith looked around, his face as closed off as it had been when he'd arrived. He was a skinny boy, his boney arms hugging around his torso awkwardly and his clothes looking a few sizes too large for his frame. His sister had never been very good at shopping for clothes, for herself or her son it seemed.

"Thanks for the hand," Bobby said and Meredith merely shrugged, his skinny shoulders lifting and falling almost too quick to notice. "We'll come back later to bring the horses in, in the mean time I'll give you a little tour," he announced, and again received another uninterested shrug. He didn't bother to wait and see if the boy followed him as he began heading back down to his cabin. He heard the quick footsteps behind him.

"You've seen the house. You've seen the barn. I have one fenced field just beyond the barn where I keep the horses and donkey. You head north here," he pointed at a path in the woods, "and you'll hit the lake. Be careful when you go wandering, I only own eight hundred hectares, but this wilderness can stretch on forever beyond that." He stopped on his porch and sat in his chair, picking up the knife and half-carved piece of wood he'd been whittling on earlier. "Also, there's bear, moose, wolves and coyote to keep an eye out for, so don't go wandering at night and always tell me when you're going off anywhere." He nodded at the boy, satisfied, and began carving his wood.

"That's your tour?" Meredith asked, sounding indignant. "You pointed at some trees and tell me to not get eaten alive and you think that's enough information?" Bobby frowned and looked at him.

"Yeah. There isn't a lot else out here."

"Now I know why they sent me here," he muttered under his breath and Bobby, hiding a frown, pretended not to hear. The ten year old looked out at the trees surrounding them, the frown on his face showing his first bit of real emotion since arriving here.

Honestly Bobby had no idea why they'd sent him here. He hadn't heard from his sister in years. He hadn't heard from any of his family in years, and then two days ago Kate's husband had called and asked if Meredith could come up to stay for the summer.

Of course he'd said no. He didn't want to take care of their kids for them, and it sure as hell wasn't his responsibility. Hell, they'd made it pretty clear a while back that they didn't want him involved in their lives.

They'd offered to compensate him and he'd laughed. Seriously, money was the least of his problems.

Then Lyle had called in his favour, and Bobby might not like them, or want anything to do with them anymore, but he was also a man of his word. And he owed them.

Lyle had dropped his boy off without so much as a glance back and the thing Bobby noticed after meeting his nephew for the first time was that he was as pale as a ghost. He was too skinny. He had huge purple bags under blood shot eyes. He held himself wearily. He looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

No child should look like that. What the hell had they done to make him that way?

Meredith didn't look at him again as he sat there carving at his wood. Instead, he gazed around the small yard, his eyes lingering on the sundial, on the wooden wind chimes singing softly at the edge of the trees, at the soap hanging off the two apple trees Bobby had planted years ago. He stared at the old pickup truck parked in front of his work shed and at the rusted Chevelle that was tucked away to the side, half buried in the grass. He looked back at Bobby, spending a long moment just watching him, and then he disappeared back inside.

Later, when Dave showed up with some steaks and a salad, Meredith joined them. He didn't talk and didn't ask questions. He stared at Dave with suspicion and kept both men in his sights as much as possible. The knot of unease in Bobby's stomach grew the longer he watched the boy's reactions. Dave pretended not to notice, talking about how the seaplane at the marina was beginning to show its wear and tear and how the local kids had caught a coon and were attempting to tame it.

They kept it as normal as possible, sitting around the table on the deck, swatting at the black flies. Meredith ate quickly, and not a lot, before silently going back inside to his room.

Dave looked at Bobby then, the wrinkles around his eyes more pronounced in his unease. They held each other's gaze, not needing words to convey what each was thinking, and then finished their meal in silence.


	2. Gus

**Chapter 2: Gus**

Meredith didn't complain when asked to help at the barn, just about the work itself. He mucked the stalls, filled the water buckets, swept the floor and dragged the hay bales around as ordered. He made a few derogatory comments about child labour that, once or twice, startled a laugh out of Bobby. The boy was mostly quiet beyond that, but when he chose to open his mouth and flap off he could be as sharp as a blade.

When they were outside he watched his surroundings carefully, taking time to gaze into the trees as though he was expecting something particularly nasty to jump out.

He didn't go out to explore, and he didn't play like most ten year olds probably should. Bobby wasn't an expert on the subject, never having kids of his own, but he knew the reserve the kid had wasn't normal. The silence he carried with him was heavy and Bobby sometimes felt weighed down just standing near him.

Over the past three days he had thought of picking up the phone and calling Lyle, telling him to come and get his boy because Bobby had no idea what was wrong with him but he could see that he needed help. Hell, he needed his family. But every time he was about to dial the number he remembered how Lyle hadn't even given his son a pat on the shoulder to say goodbye. He had barely looked at the boy the whole five minutes they'd stood in the driveway making awkward small talk. The dust had settled heavily around them.

He hung up the phone again now, as he had every time. He had no idea how to take care of the kid, but he was pretty sure he couldn't do any worse than the boys parents. He sighed as he looked around his dimly lit house. It was the middle of the afternoon, but all the curtains had been pulled in an attempt to keep the days heat outside. It felt stifling, dry, and it irritated him to be inside. So he moved to his porch, and saw that Meredith wasn't actually in his room, as he had thought.

The skinny ten year old, dressed in pants with his long sleeve shirt tucked in firmly, was standing on his toes and bent into the engine of the rusted old Chevelle. The hood was propped up with a piece of cracked metal piping. Bobby watched him from the front door for a minute, before going over to see what the kid was doing, curious.

"What are you up to?" He asked, his voice a little rough having not spoken in a few hours. Meredith's entire body jerked violently. The kid reared out of the engine with the grace of a bull coming out of its pen, his arm swinging wildly and knocking the pipe from its place. The heavy hood crashed back down onto the car, just missing the boy as he fell to the ground and began scrambling backwards to get away. The problem with his escape attempt was that the vehicle was in his way.

"Easy! Easy Meredith! I'm not going to hurt you," Bobby instantly crouched down, trying to diminish his height as wild blue eyes stared at him unrelentingly. It took a moment before recognition entered Meredith's eyes and by then he was breathing like he'd just sprinted a few kilometres. The fear in his gaze, the reason Bobby had instinctively dropped to the ground and had him speaking so softly, was mostly replaced by unease and anger and Meredith finally looked away, his gaze darting around nervously.

"You shouldn't sneak up on people like that!" He snapped, using the bumper to pull himself to his feet, wrapping his arms around himself defensively.

"I'm sorry," Bobby apologized instantly, not moving to stand up yet. The kid was still looking around carefully, his eyes once again scanning the forest, his skin paler than usual. "I just wanted to see what you were doing, I didn't mean to scare you."

"Well, you did!" He snarled, his voice coloured with emotion as he glared at him again, the fear still lurking in his wide eyes. "Don't do it again," he ordered, swallowing thickly and Bobby blinked, not quite sure how to take the tone. He took a breath himself, his heartbeat settling back down after the intensity of the moment.

"I can't promise that it won't happen again by accident Meredith, but I'll do my best to not startle you like that in the future." The kid stared at him some more, his gaze as untrusting as it had been since he'd arrived, but after a moment he seemed to accept Bobby at his word, and lord knows why but he actually felt relieved by that.

"Okay. Good." Bobby took that as permission to stand up, and he tried not to groan as his knees protested the movement. He looked back at the old car as Meredith was still watching him carefully. He was acting like a cornered animal.

"What were you doing?" He gestured at the vehicle and the kid stopped hugging himself, edging away from the car and Bobby, a frown on his face.

"I was just looking. I won't do it again." Bobby frowned, feeling the heat of the sun on his bare arms and the dry breeze tug at his clothes.

"You can look all you want kid. I just wasn't expecting you to be interested in the old thing. Just be careful when you do, I don't want you to get hurt." The kid responded by stiffening up, his hands closing into fists but he stopped edging away. They watched each other in silence.

"Okay," he finally relented, and then he went back inside. Bobby stood staring at the junk car. It had once been a pride and joy for him. Somewhere along the line he'd stopped taking care of it, and after years of neglect it was nothing more than a hollow shell, all its beauty stripped from it by its environment. It was incredible, sometimes, how harsh the world could be.

oooOOOooo

He leaned against the house's wall, his knees pulled into his chest and the bushes on each side of him hiding him from view. There was no wind at all today, and he'd pushed his long sleeves up as high as they could go but he still felt so hot. He could hear the horses running in their field, their hooves sounding like distant thunder and he figured they must be some special kind of stupid to use that much energy in this heat.

Everything here was just so stupid.

He should probably be thankful that his uncle at least had electricity and plumbing, because considering how far out in Northern Ontario they were he wouldn't have been surprised if everything ran off generators. Which they didn't, because he'd checked.

He wondered what Jeannie was doing. Dad had said that she was going to camp once summer holidays started next week, but not which one. Rodney didn't think she even knew, but he bet it was someplace where she wasn't shut away from the rest of the world. Because she wasn't a freak. She didn't have to hide.

She was the only person in his family who ever hugged him anymore.

"Stupid family," he muttered, blinking back tears. He bet his mom didn't even know he was at Uncle Robert's. She probably wouldn't even be back home until summer was over anyway. Like last year. Which didn't bother him, because he didn't care if she was never around. He just wished Jeannie could maybe see her a bit more.

And he wished there was more to do here.

And he wished his dad wanted him around

And he wished he didn't have to hide so much.

The horses had stopped running now, either because they decided to develop some sense of intelligence or they'd died of heat exhaustion. Stupid summer when there was no air conditioning. His uncle didn't seem to mind, which probably meant he was just as crazy as his horses. Especially considering he was currently chopping wood out by the shed.

At least the bugs weren't so bad today. Rodney had practically drowned himself in his uncles insect repellent and the heat was probably keeping all but the most blood thirsty flies away. His eyes drifted from the grass in front of him to the woods that sat ten meters away. The undergrowth wasn't as thick here as it was on the other side of the house, around the shed. He could see through the trees easier; it was more difficult for people to sneak around here and hide. There was also a clear, well walked path that apparently led to a lake.

If Rodney squinted he imagined he could just see the sparkle of the sun glinting off the blue water. He swallowed thickly and looked back down at the grass.

His uncle stopped chopping wood when the sound of a truck carried through the air. Rodney didn't move when he heard the heavy metal door closing. Deep voices greeted each other from the other side of the house. He didn't care who it was, because he knew it wasn't his dad, and it sure as heck wasn't his mom.

When a cold nose suddenly shoved itself into his neck he screamed louder than a banshee and thrashed out wildly with his arms until the warm furry body backed away from him. He was on his feet in a second, backed against the wall with his arms out to ward off the danger before he even looked at it.

It was a dog. A huge, freaking dog that stood as tall as his waist and was watching him out of big brown eyes. It was going to eat him alive!

"Gus! Gus, get back," a man appeared around the corner and the dog took a few more steps away, but it was wagging its tail now. Probably preparing for its final attack.

"It's going to eat me!" Rodney yelled at the new comer and looked up to find that he recognized him. It was Dave, his uncles friend from the other night.

"Relax Meredith, he isn't going to eat you. He's just saying hello."

"By trying to rip my throat out! Do you have a muzzle for that thing?" He demanded, trying to get away from them both now. The leaves and branches from the bush began to dig into his side, and he stilled immediately, feeling every scrape against tender skin. He took a deep breath, and flinched when Dave looked like he was going to reach for him.

"It's okay, Meredith. Gus won't hurt you, I promise," Dave said, crouching down beside the dog instead and wrapping one big arm around its neck, rubbing its head with his free hand. Rodney relaxed a little as the dog did nothing but wag its tail a bit more.

"I'm sorry he scared you, we didn't realize you were out here and he was just checking up on the place," he offered by way of explanation.

"Fine, okay." Rodney agreed, hoping they would go away. Agreeing with people, doing what they asked of him, never made them go away before but there was always the possibility. It didn't work now either as Dave just looked at him for a long moment.

"Want to pet him?"

"No!"

"He's just a big friendly dog, don't let his size scare you."

"He doesn't scare me," Rodney snapped, glaring at them both. He wasn't scared of the dog, he just hadn't been expecting him. And he didn't like dogs, and this one looked like the size of a deer. But he wasn't scared! Not of something as stupid as a member of the canine family.

"Then why don't you pet him?"

"I'm not going to pet him."

"But you just said you weren't scared." Rodney glared at the man. He was tall and he was old and he wasn't supposed to argue like this. Adults didn't argue like this, they just did what they wanted. Rodney glared at him.

"I'm not scared, and don't think your reverse psychology can trick me into doing something I don't want to, because I'm not some stupid kid." Dave frowned at that, wrinkles appearing on his forehead as he looked back.

"I'm not trying to trick you kid. I'm just calling it like I see it."

"You know what? Fine. I'll pet your stupid dog-"

"Gus" he interrupted.

"I'll pet Gus, and then you can leave me alone. Okay?" Rodney stuck his hand out, slowly, because he didn't want to startle the animal into ripping it off, and quickly gave the brown head a few rubs. "There." He announced, and pulled his hand back. Dave looked at him, looked at the dog and nodded, standing up.

"Great, now you two can get to know each other. I'll be inside with your uncle getting dinner ready. Gus," he looked at the dog, "be good."

"You can't just leave him here with me!" Rodney cried out even as the man disappeared around the corner. He looked at the dog, Gus, and the animal looked back. His tongue was hanging out of his mouth and he was panting from the heat but he didn't try to move closer and for that Rodney was relieved.

"Go play," he ordered, waving towards the yard and watched with satisfaction as the dog wandered away to explore on his command. For a while Rodney stayed where he was, his back pressed to the houses wall, mostly hidden by the bushes, and he just watching the animal run around. He came back to him a few times, until Rodney finally just pet the dirty thing to get it to leave him alone. It seemed to be enough to make the animal happy. It wasn't much later when he heard his uncle yelling that dinner was ready.

They ate around the table on the deck again, and Rodney picked at his food, making sure he ate a little bit because it made him feel better. He just wasn't really hungry. The dog ate from his bowl on the lawn, loud crunching noises coming from his direction and Rodney kept looking over at it. He needed to make sure it wasn't going to come up here and eat him as well, because it looked hungry enough.

When enough time had passed Rodney stopped pushing his food around and thanked them for dinner. He picked up his plate, making sure the cutlery wouldn't fall off, and went to move inside.

"Meredith, just leave the food on the plate, we'll give it to Gus for breakfast." His uncle called and he looked over at him and then at his plate and shrugged in agreement. He got to the door and stopped again, taking a deep breath.

"Could you…could you call me Rodney?" He asked quietly and looked anywhere but at them. "Meredith…they all call me Meredith and it's a stupid name." He looked at the mashed up beans on his plate, the chicken breast beside it that was stone cold.

"Sure, under one condition," his uncle spoke up and Rodney quickly looked at him, trying to hide his worry. People always wanted something from him. They could never just do something he asked without asking for something in return and it wasn't fair. "You have to call me Bobby. No more of this Uncle Robert stuff." Rodney blinked in surprise. That was it? That was all he wanted?

"Yeah, okay. I can do that," he agreed, embarrassed as his voice cracked a bit, and he quickly went inside before they asked for something more. He could do that. A name for a name, it sounded like a fair deal to him.

oooOOOooo

notes: Thanks for all the wonderful and encouraging reviews!


	3. Place on the Shelf

**Chapter 3: Place on the Shelf**

"Hey, come look at this," Dave nodded out the window, careful to keep his soapy hands above the sink so the suds didn't drip everywhere. Bobby moved closer to him, his chest brushing lightly against his shoulder. It took a moment for him to see what Dave was looking at, before Gus tore into view and barely managed to stop before bowling the kid over. The mutt dropped the old rubber ball Bobby kept around for him at Rodney's feet, and the boy looked at it with a clear expression of distaste.

They both grinned as his arms began waving around, pointing at the ball and at Gus and then the world at large. He flinched when Gus barked, which had the slight smiles on both men's faces disappearing. Rodney stared at the dog a long minute, waiting, and when nothing more happened he waved his arms around a few more times. Gus barked again. Rodney sighed, made a show of picking up the ball and threw it. He immediately bent over to wipe his hand in the grass.

"Need to teach that boy how to throw," Dave commented, reaching into the hot water and pulling out a mug. Bobby moved back to where he'd been wiping down the stove, not needing to comment on how the kid should already know how to toss a ball. They were silent for a few minutes, the occasional bark from Gus drifted through the open window and Bobby turned back to find Dave leaning against the counter, watching him.

"What?"

"You going to tell me what's bothering you?"

"You know what's bothering me," he countered gruffly.

"I have a pretty good idea, yeah," Dave agreed, the afternoon light splaying across the left side of his body. Bobby didn't say anything. He'd never been one for talking too much. Dave looked back out the window, his frown making him look older than his fifty-five years, turning the usual laugh lines in his face to something darker, something ugly.

"He wears too many clothes," Dave all but growled. "It's too damn hot for a boy to have pants and long sleeves on."

"I don't think he brought any t-shirts with him. He's worn the same thing two days in a row now. He's beginning to smell ripe," Bobby swallowed thickly. "I haven't seen any marks on his arms."

"You think your sister would raise a hand to him? You think her husband would?" Dave asked quietly and Bobby clenched his fists, water from the cloth in his hand dripped around his knuckles to the floor.

"Don't know," he replied. "I don't know them anymore." They met each other's eyes again, trying to read each other's thoughts. Bobby's family had never raised their fists to each other as far as he knew, but they could flay skin with their words. He hadn't heard from them in over fifteen years. He'd only met Lyle twice, the second time being when he'd left Rodney standing in his driveway. The kid hadn't looked surprised by how quickly his father had driven away.

He had looked heartbroken, and scared.

"Something sure as fuck isn't right with that boy," Dave hissed, and turned back to stare out the window. "He sleeps too much. He hides too much." He took a breath. "He watches us like he's waiting for something, and it ain't good." Bobby moved back to Dave, dropping the cloth in the sink. He looked out the window and pressed his shoulder to the other mans, offering support. They didn't speak much about their pasts, but he was aware that where he had been torn apart by actions and words, Dave had learned to fear the belt.

"He asked us to call him Rodney," Bobby said quietly, and felt Dave relax slightly beside him.

"That's something I guess."

"It is." After a moment Dave began to chuckle and Bobby couldn't help but join in. "What a freaking pair we make," he grinned and Bobby shook his head, watching Rodney toss the ball again, and then wipe his hand on his pants. He was going to have to do the kid's laundry soon.

"I was going to head to the co-op today, pick up more feed for the horses before the storm hits." Bobby announced and moved to put the few dry plates away. He watched Dave look at the clear blue sky and nod.

"It's been building for a week now with this heat wave. I need to take care of some things too," Dave agreed, scratching behind his ear.

"Well, sooner we leave the sooner we can get back. I'll go get the kid." Bobby walked out the front door, the wave of heat smacking him in the face like an insult. He could feel the pressure in the atmosphere, his head had been aching since yesterday and the stillness in the air was just begging to be disturbed. It was going to be a big storm, but it probably wouldn't hit until late in the evening.

"Rodney," he called as he rounded the corner and saw the boy twist around quickly to watch him. The blue eyes tracked his movement as he approached. Every time that kid looked at him he felt like he was being sized up and catalogued but he still didn't have a place on the shelf. He wondered how long it would take for the kid to begin trusting him. He wondered if he ever would.

"We're heading into town to take care of some things," the boy's eyes widened, a bit of panic filtering through his gaze. "Shouldn't be more than three, four hours. You want to come or stay here?" He wouldn't leave the kid alone, but he sensed that not giving him a chance to make his own decision would be a mistake.

"I'll come with you," Rodney quickly announced, and then startled as Gus shoved right up beside him, leaning against his legs. With a little hesitation he brought his pale hand up to rest on the dog's back. Bobby agreed with the choice and indicated that the boy should follow him around to the truck. Dave was already sitting inside, the driver's window rolled down and his arm resting on the frame, tapping along to a silent tune. Rodney balked when he came to the cab, staring at the three seats that made up the entire interior of the truck.

"Well, hop in," Bobby instructed and tried to hide his frown as the kid took a step away from him.

"You know, on second thought I think I'll just stay here," Rodney announced, looking like a jackrabbit about to run away at the first sign of movement. Bobby looked back at the cab, at Dave pretending not to watch them from under his ball cap.

"You want to ride in the back with the mutt?" He suggested instead. "It'll be bumpy, but there's more wind to cool you down on the trip in." The relief was instantaneous and Rodney nodded in agreement, not saying anything else as he scrambled onto the tailgate and moved to cram himself against the cab wall and the truck's side. Gus jumped up after him, tail wagging hard and nearly knocking the kid in the head.

"If you need anything just bang on the glass. We have a window we can talk through."

"Okay," was the only response he got, but it was enough. Bobby climbed into the cab and, sharing a look with Dave, they headed into town.

oooOOOooo

"Dave, you going up?" The woman asked, her voice rough from a two pack a day habit and a cigarette dangled from painted red lips. It was the only make-up she wore and Rodney wondered why she even bothered. What was the point of just wearing lipstick? She looked over at Rodney, a frown on her face as Dave answered in the negative and looked down to the end of the dock they stood on. Rodney had opted to remain at the Marina/general store, leaning against the rough wooden wall. He wasn't going anywhere near that dock, not a chance in hell.

If he'd known they were going to drag him to a town that consisted of only three stores and that it was situated directly on a lake he would have chosen to stay back at the cabin. Being alone was better than this.

"I'm just going to make sure all the ropes are tight for the storm tonight," Dave told her, pulling the cap off his head and wiping sweat away with the back of his forearm. She watched the action carefully and then looked up into the bright blue sky, squinting at the sun. Because that was just fantastic for her eyesight.

"What storm? There isn't a cloud in the sky."

"Bobby says it'll hit late evening."

"Guess I better double check all the boats then," she looked around at the horseshoed dock that rocked gently on the water, and at the three boats tied to it. Gee, she really had her work cut out for her. Rodney snorted, and looked away when her gaze fell back on him.

"What's with the kid?" She asked, dropping the volume of her voice and apparently not realizing that being seven meters away wasn't enough distance to conceal their conversation. Rodney looked down at his shoes and kicked at the grey wood slats of the porch.

"He's family."

"What? Thought you two didn't have any family." Rodney could feel her eyes on him again.

"Everyone has a family, Margaret. Rodney," Dave called and Rodney looked over, trying not to look nervous. "Want to come see my plane?" Rodney stared past the man to one end of the dock, where a small yellow and red seaplane was moored. He looked at all the water surrounding it and shivered, crossing his arms over his chest.

"No." He answered and looked away.

"Not too polite, is he," the woman huffed and Rodney could feel her disapproving eyes on him again.

"He is how he is. Go on inside the store, kid. Maddy has some popsicles if you want one." Rodney immediately went to the door to the store and pulled it open, stepping into the slightly cooler air. At least one place around here had air conditioning.

A bell over the door rang as it swung shut and Rodney jumped, looking up at it accusingly before glancing around. The fridge on his right had a bold red sign declaring live bait and he quickly moved to the other side of the shop. There were all sorts of things here. Tools, rope, camping and fishing equipment, kerosene, candles, water proof matches, chocolate bars, windshield wipers and note pads. There was an old bike in one corner, probably never ridden and collecting dust because no one was ever going to buy it. Outside there were two gas pumps: one for regular and one for diesel. It didn't get much more hick than this.

Rodney stopped and looked at the tools. And he stayed there until he heard the doorbell ring again and carefully hid himself behind a brochure rack that advertised everything from fishing trips and post cards to information flyers about aids and malaria. He was very careful not to touch any of them.

"Sorry Dave, I didn't realize anyone was here or I would have made sure I didn't step out."

"No harm done Maddy, he's probably just looking around. Rodney?" Bobby called and he slowly stepped out from the rack and moved forward. "Find anything of interest?" Rodney looked back at the rubber bungee cords and plastic piping and then down at his feet.

"No," he muttered. His dad had been very clear that he wasn't supposed to ask for anything. He was supposed to make sure Bobby would keep him for the whole summer, and that meant he had to put up and shut up. That might not be a direct quote but Rodney had understood his dad's meaning when they had been on the flight over. The moment of silence that followed his denial was uncomfortable, at least for him. It was difficult not to shuffle on his feet when he felt his uncle watching him.

"Right. Well Maddy, it looks like we'll just be grabbing two of those shirts over there and some bait."

"Sure thing Bobby, I'll put it on your tab."

"Rodney? You coming?"

Rodney looked up from the shelf of magazines he'd been staring at and nodded. There were no comics in the stacks. Bobby held out the two t-shirts towards him, the material spilling out around his large hand and Rodney frowned.

"What?" He looked up at the guy, wondering if he ever took off that hat.

"I'm not carrying around what isn't mine," his uncle announced and continued to hold out the shirts.

"You bought me shirts?" What? Rodney hadn't asked for anything.

"I did. Come on, take them. Dave'll be waiting for us by the truck now." Rodney took the shirts, the material cool in his hands. He looked at them and then up at his uncle, who was already heading out the door. Maddy, her red curly hair spilling over her bare shoulders, smiled at him kindly. He quickly walked out after his uncle.

On the way back he kept a tight grip on the bags of oats sitting beside him and watched Gus try to stay on his feet as they hit pothole after pothole. He looked blankly at the shirts in his hands.

In the distance dark clouds began to blanket the sky.


	4. Weathering the Storm

**Chapter 4: Weathering the Storm**

"No!" The yell carried sharply up the stairs and had Bobby jackknifing in bed. He was out from under his thin sheets before he even acknowledged the action, and was moving swiftly to the main floor of his home.

Lightening flashed, illuminating his path. The thunder was loud enough that he was surprised it didn't shake the house on its foundation. The storm had been raging for some time now, and it was as strong as he had predicted.

When he reached Rodney's room he paused at the door, looking around carefully to make sure there wasn't a physical threat; a reason the boy had yelled out so sharply. Rodney was huddled on his bed, blankets shoved off onto the floor. He'd pulled his legs to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, holding them there. He wasn't moving.

"Rodney?" Bobby moved to the bed and crouched down, reaching out to turn on the bedside light. The boy's entire body flinched but he looked up, his eyes opening a crack, and he made a choked little sound that hit Bobby right in the chest. "Rodney?" He reached out to gently touch his shoulder, to reassure him that he was safe, but his fingers never came close to making contact.

"No! I said no! Don't touch me!" Rodney was on the floor, on the other side of the bed and scrambling into the corner before he'd finished yelling. His skinny shoulders, hidden in his massive shirt, were bowed forward and his arms wrapped tightly around his knees. He glared at Bobby, his curly hair falling into his face, his eyes focused and accusing. The sharpness in the boy's gaze sent a chill down Bobby's spine, and for a brief moment a threat was clear. Then the fear came back, and Rodney was just a ten-year-old boy who was so terrified of something that he had wedged himself into a corner.

Jesus Christ, what had his sister done to this child?

"Rodney?" He spoke softly, staying where he was on the other side of the bed, illuminated in the lamps soft glow. "Rodney, I'm not going to hurt you. I'm going to stay right here until you're ready to come out of the corner okay? I'm not going to touch you," he cursed his rough voice, which didn't sound at all soothing to his own ears. Thunder rumbled loudly through the room.

Rodney watched him with an unsettling intensity.

"Rodney? I'm Bobby. I'm your uncle and I am not going to hurt you." Rain pelted against the window, trying to drown out his words. He watched the boy pull his arms tighter and he wished like hell Dave was here. Dave had always had a softer way about children, they trusted him easier.

"Rodney, you're okay here. You're safe. I am not going to hurt you." The boy kept staring at him, he was beginning to shake but trying to hide it. "Do you know where you are?" The blue eyes finally blinked, and then shifted about to look at the room before settling back on Bobby. Silent.

Bobby let out a deep breath and rubbed a hand through his hair. He didn't know what was wrong. How the hell could he help this kid if he didn't know what was wrong? Christ, what were his parents thinking leaving him here like this when he was so seriously…He sucked in a breath and counted to ten in his mind, forcing his fists to unclench.

"Rodney, do you know who I am?" He got an eye roll for his question and Bobby relaxed slightly. If there was one thing he had noticed about the kid's personality, it was the almost constant eye rolling. What the boy lacked in words he showed in expression. Bobby hoped this meant he was coming around now. "Do you know where you are?"

"'m not an idiot," he muttered and then looked away, his eyes squeezing shut.

"You know you're safe here?" There was no response. "Rodney, you are safe here. I'm not going to hurt you," Bobby's throat felt tight as he waited quietly by the bed.

"Sure," he finally mumbled, but he didn't sound entirely convinced. "Sorry. It was just a bad dream. I didn't mean to wake you." He spoke into his knees now, his words muffled by the cotton and flesh.

"It's no problem kid," he said, a bit more gruffly than he intended. His fists had balled up again and he was thankful the bed was blocking them from view. "I was awake anyway. I don't sleep well in storms."

"Yeah?" Rodney's eyes looked back at him, still afraid but hiding it better now. Regaining control, looking more self assured.

"Yeah," Bobby affirmed and swallowed thickly.

"Okay," Rodney accepted, but he gave no indication that he was ready to move from his corner of safety.

"You want to head into the kitchen with me? Have a drink?"

"No alcohol." It wasn't a request, it was an order.

"No alcohol," he agreed, though he sure as hell could do with some whisky about now. The boy stared at him hard a moment, eyes suspicious before nodding slowly and Bobby decided that that was enough. "I'll be in the kitchen when you're ready." He moved slowly and with purpose, feeling the boy's eyes follow him out the door.

He took his time setting up the coffeemaker, the rain falling on the roof reverberated through his home, the lightening still flashed intermittently outside. The thunder wasn't as loud anymore. The storm was slowly passing. He had a feeling the storm that really mattered was going to be here for a lot longer.

He thought about calling Dave, needing a reasonable voice to calm his nerves.

He wanted to see his sister and her husband.

He'd never wanted to see them as badly as he wanted to right now.

And they had a fuck load of explaining to do.

A chair scraped across the floor and he turned slightly to see Rodney slowly sitting down, watching him carefully. Waiting. Bobby turned back to his task.

"You ever had coffee before?" He asked.

"No."

"I think you'll like it." He didn't have tea. He should have thought about getting hot chocolate or something when he was in town that afternoon.

He could feel Rodney's eyes on him the entire time he stood there, preparing the mugs, pulling down sugar for the kid. Maybe he'd want milk in his drink. He put everything on the table and sat down. Rodney stared at the black liquid suspiciously.

"It's not poisoned," he remarked off hand, trying to lighten the mood. The boy looked at him sharply, no amusement in his eyes.

"That a fact?" He asked quietly. Old. He was ten and with those three words he'd sounded so god damned old.

"It is." Bobby blinked at him carefully. "You ever had reason to doubt it before?"

Rodney was silent, watching him, thinking. Then he pulled the mug towards him and began shovelling sugar into it like it was the last stash on the planet.

"Someone gave me lemonade once," he finally announced. "I'm deathly allergic to citrus."

"Good to know."

"And bee's"

"Okay." Bobby agreed easily, as though it were enough to explain his suspicion. They lapsed into silence. Rodney took a sip of coffee and then added more milk. "Do you like it?"

"It's not bad." He graciously answered, his eyes moving to roam about the room, stare out the windows, stare at Bobby some more. "I figured you were bald," he announced suddenly, breaking the heavy silence. Bobby raised his eyebrow.

"What would make you think that?"

"This is the first time I've seen you without your hat. You surprised me earlier. In the room. I didn't recognize you," he explained quickly and then looked at anything but Bobby. He was nervous, his eyes shifted. He was lying. He was trying to explain away his behaviour.

"Your nightmare seemed pretty intense. I suppose that also made it difficult to remember where you were and who you were with when you woke up." Rodney didn't respond. "If you need to talk about it I can listen," he offered casually.

"It's nothing. Storms just freak me out." Rodney shrugged.

"Yeah. Storms." Bobby replied, trying to sound understanding and accepting. Rodney didn't look up from his coffee mug, his pale boney hands clutched it like a lifeline. Bobby looked at the clock on the wall. It wasn't even three in the morning yet.

Rodney was beginning to relax a little now. He wasn't shaking anymore, he wasn't as pale as he had been. He wasn't making demands that Bobby not touch him (a chill crept up his spine as he remembered the desperate plea). The kid didn't want to talk about his nightmare, or what might have caused it. If Bobby was going to press the issue he should do it now, while it was still recent. He didn't. Sometimes remaining silent was the best option.

Rodney took a long time to drink his coffee, but he didn't have much to say. He kept looking at Bobby when he thought the older man wasn't paying attention, but he mostly watched his own hands. When he was finished his drink he kept holding onto the mug, glaring into it.

The clock over the kitchen window ticked loudly, making the minutes seem longer.

"Storm's gone," Rodney announced suddenly and stood up abruptly. "Guess I'll go back to bed." He walked to the sink, looking as though he was approaching the guillotine, and began to rinse out his cup. Bobby watched him, noticed that he was trying to hide shaking hands. He wasn't sure if it was the caffeine or something else that caused the tremors to start up again, but the boy looked so wretched he couldn't stay quiet.

"I've got a few movies, if you're interested," he suggested from his seat. Rodney looked at him quickly, assessing.

"It's almost four in the morning,"

"So it is," he observed. "Coffee tends to keep me up for a while. You interested in joining me?"

"Yeah, yeah I could watch a movie. You better have something good though, none of that pretentious Disney crap," Rodney began bouncing on his feet, looking eager and relieved.

"It'll just take a moment to connect the TV and VCR." He got to his feet, his limbs protesting slightly.

"I'll do that," Rodney had already moved to the living room. He looked at the equipment a moment and then was reaching around behind the set and hooking up wires before Bobby had even entered the room. "Why isn't it set up anyway? There's no point in having it here just collecting dust."

"Never got around to it," he responded and eased down onto the couch. Dave had brought the video player up the day before and just dumped it on the TV. _It's_ _for the kid_ he announced, and dropped a box of tapes beside it. Sometimes Dave was the genius of the two of them.

"Done," Rodney announced as Bobby was placing his second cup of coffee on the table. The kid was fast. "These are your movies?" he sat down in front of the box and began going through it, his brow furrowing in criticism. Bobby had no idea what was in the box.

"Yep," he agreed. Rodney pulled out the Chainsaw Massacre, and Bobby eyed it critically from the couch.

"We're not watching that," he ordered. Rodney frowned and put it back. He pulled out The Exorcist. "Not a chance." Christ, the kid didn't need any more nightmares. Rodney frowned at him again and Bobby wondered what other crap Dave had thought was appropriate for a ten year old.

"Okay, Monty Python and the Holy Grail. That can't offend your sensibilities," the boy drawled sarcastically. He'd already put the film in the VCR so Bobby figured it probably didn't matter to him one way or the other.

Rodney took the opposite end of the couch, tucking into the corner and didn't say anything else. He did, however, laugh. It was the first time Bobby had heard the sound. He hoped it wouldn't be the last.

oooOOOooo

It rained for two days. Bobby didn't let that stop him from tending to the horses, but he didn't have much other reason to be outside so he'd retreated to his shed to work on his current pet project. Rodney had opted to remain in the house. Whenever he went in to check on the boy he found him lookimg guilty, but there was nothing out of place that he could see, so he figured the kid had probably been watching the movies Bobby had vetoed. He thought about being angry, but decided it didn't really matter. Besides, his tv only had three channels and only one of them had any reception, so the kid had to watch something.

Maybe he'd talk about the nightmares relating to the exorcist.

Bobby had tried calling his sisters place, but they hadn't answered the phone and had yet to buy an answering machine. He wouldn't have left a message if they had; what he had to say shouldn't be said to a recorder.

Rodney was still quiet for the most part, but he didn't watch Bobby with the same level of scrutiny and mistrust. He'd finally relaxed a little. He still wore the long sleeve shirts despite the heat, securely tucking them into his pants.

On the second day Bobby came in for lunch to see Dave's truck out front. He wondered how long the man had been there. When he walked into the kitchen it was to find both men at the table, peering intently at his radio. The one he'd only bought three months before, which was now in more pieces then the manufacturer recommended. He stood in the doorway and watched.

"No, that goes there," Rodney pointed out as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "It's the crystal oscillator." Dave looked where the kid was pointing and nodded. "If that circuit breaks then there's no way to stabilize the frequencies for transmitting and receiving." And then he launched into a detailed explanation of variable frequency systems, phase locked loop frequency synthesisers, and why it was better to multiply the frequency of the free running oscillator up to the final, required frequency. It was all 'very basic,' but apparently necessary.

Bobby and Dave shared a look over the kids head.

"You going to have that thing back together before dinner?" Bobby eyed the mess and then went to wash his hands in the sink. Rodney didn't even look up from pointing out another piece of the electronic puzzle.

"I could have it back together in ten minutes tops. All the main parts are still intact, I just wanted to get a picture of the internal structure. Here, now look at this: the average output signal level in an AGC is fed back to adjust the gain to an appropriate level for a range of input signal levels, which is important because it adjusts the volume in relative proportion to how strong or weak the receiver is picking up the signal, preventing the sound from wavering. When you take…" Bobby started making soup for the three of them. After a minute Dave came to help with the sandwiches while Rodney reassembled the radio. Bobby raised his eyebrows at Dave.

"What? I came in and the kid had it spread across the table like a turkey dinner." He looked over at Rodney, who seemed to be focused on his task with the same intensity he usually gave his surroundings. "He's a smart kid, Bobby." Dave said quietly and Bobby looked at him.

"Runs in the family," Bobby grunted and looked at the kid again. He didn't remember being able to give a lecture on the finer points of radio transmissions at ten. He didn't remember caring about it at that age.

"Yeah, I suppose it does," Dave grinned.

It turns out Rodney's guilty looks came from spending the last day and a half taking apart Bobby's coffeemaker, toaster oven, TV, VCR, hand held radios, remote controls, electric mixer and the remote controlled boat he'd had stored in the closet for years. He'd forgotten about that thing.

He now had proper reception on all three TV channels from a jury rigged antennae.

Smart kid indeed.


	5. General Perception of Human Intellegence

Hello to everyone of you lovely readers and reviewers! I apologize for not posting over the weekend. As a thank you for your patience I'm posting both chapters 5 and six for you tonight. Thanks again for all your wonderful support!

**Chapter 5: General Perception of Human Intelligence**

A few days later, as the sun rose, Bobby found Rodney sitting by the lake behind his home. Mist was hugging close to the waters surface, orange and gold filtering through the light grey and the birds chirped softly as they woke.

The boy should have been in bed.

He hung back, the well-worn path he walked gave him a direct line of sight to the boy. Rodney matched the stillness of the water as he stared across the lake, perched on the large rock as though he were a part of it. A gargoyle. Surveying his territory, making no move to disturb it. Ten minutes eased by, the only movement came from breathing and blinking, until a pike jumped close by and Rodney startled.

His breathing became heavier, his arms clutched tighter around his knees and his fists clenched and unclenched rhythmically. Then he stood and moved quickly back to the house, his gaze focused on the path before him. When Bobby went to get him later to help with the horses the kid pretended to still be asleep, but he went willingly enough. He had yet to shy away from hard work, even as he grumbled disdainfully.

When they finished with the horses Bobby gave him access to his shed, so long as he was careful and asked for help if he needed it. Rodney was quick to agree, interest briefly erupting on his face before he schooled his reaction. Later, when Dave arrived for lunch and Gus leapt out from the bed of his truck, Rodney emerged from the small building with a crooked, pleased grin plastered on his face.

And a giant handmade crossbow of scrap materials and rubber bungee cords clutched in his hands.

It shot the dog's ball so far down the driveway it sometimes took five minutes for Gus to come back, panting heavily around his prize. The trees didn't help the animal's search any and at one point they almost took out a couple of crows when they were trying to see how high the ball would go.

Bobby told Rodney he could help him rebuild his riding lawnmowers engine later that afternoon and Rodney told him it was for the best he had his help, otherwise he'd probably screw it all up. Dave hadn't stopped laughing at Bobby all afternoon and Rodney ignored them both as he became immersed in his project.

That night, long after Rodney had gone to his room, Bobby told Dave about finding him at the lake. There wasn't much else to say about it.

oooOOOooo

Dave came back with an old bike from town the next day. They put new tires on it and oiled the chain. Rodney insisted on fixing the brakes himself, apparently not trusting them to do it properly when it was his safety at stake. The kid rode the bike to the end of the driveway and back, but only after he was sure that Gus was following him obediently.

It took him half an hour, and when he finally came back he was soaked in sweat and panting. He disappeared into the house and re-emerged wearing one of the t-shirts Bobby had bought him days before. It had a print of a moose on it, which Rodney declared was just a sad attempt at weak patriotism and people who put animals on the front of shirts only did so because they lacked any form of creativity. His other new t-shirt had a beaver on it. Apparently he was saving it for a Sunday breakfast with maple syrup and a standing rendition of Oh Canada, which he deduced would officially be made into the national anthem within the next few years, mark his word.

He began wearing t-shirts and shorts more often than not after that, always tucking the shirts into his waistline as far as they would go.

It didn't take Bobby or Dave very long to figure out that the kid wouldn't leave sight of the house unless Gus was by his side. The dog rarely left him when he was around anyway, choosing to abandon both Dave and Bobby in favour of Rodney every time it became an issue of 'him' or 'us.' Dave began leaving Gus at Bobby's all the time. If Rodney noticed he didn't say anything about the change in routine.

It wasn't long after that, however, that Dave told Bobby the new air conditioning system in his truck, the one that didn't work as well as advertised, could now make the cab as chilly as an icebox.

oooOOOooo

Nearly three weeks into their cohabitation Bobby dropped Rodney off at the local library, which was at Maddy's store. She had a room in the back set aside that contained nothing but shelves of books. Most of them were donations. Many came from Bobby. If they wanted to go to a real library they had to head up to Ear Falls, and it would be fastest if they took the seaplane. Rodney refused.

When Maddy had seen Rodney trudging into the room she'd made a comment that her kids were around. Bobby had politely asked how they were and then pretended she didn't completely ignore his question as she walked away to find them. Later, when they were driving home, Rodney sat in the trucks cab to avoid the rain, but he'd insisted on having the window seat and had pressed so close to the door Bobby feared he might meld with it.

He held three books in his lap, clutched possessively, but he didn't tell them what they were so Bobby snuck glances until he had read the spines. The _Boundary Value Problems of Mathematical Physics_, _volume 1_ sat at the bottom of the pile, a book on cars rested blatantly on the top, its cover glossy and eye catching. Wedged in between was something on the evolution, ecology, and biology of fish.

Bobby didn't ask about them. If Rodney had wanted them to know about his reading choices he would have mentioned it. Instead Bobby mentioned something Maddy had told him when he'd come back from his tasks, before he'd pulled the kid from the book room.

"Maddy tells me you met her kids." He felt Dave shift beside him, his warm thigh and shoulder pressing into his own.

"Yeah," Rodney replied, looking out the window.

"Says you made the youngest cry."

"I didn't mean to," Rodney instantly defended. "If she can't handle the truth she shouldn't ask questions. Besides, she's older than me and needs to grow a backbone," he snorted in disrespect. Bobby eyed him thoughtfully and Rodney turned to glare at him. "What?" he demanded.

"You usually have this much trouble getting along with others your age?" Rodney blinked, frowned, and then looked away.

"I don't understand them," he admitted. "They're so…stupid. Some of the things that come out of their mouths…" he stopped and looked thoughtful for a moment. "Actually, the things that come out of most people's mouths are stupid," and he shrugged. "I try to set them straight when I can, but most people think I'm insulting them or trying to make them look dumb." He went back to looking out the window, eyes suddenly shadowed, sad.

Lonely.

After a few minutes of silence Bobby nudged him gently in the arm with his elbow. It was the first time he actually touched the kid. Rodney glared at him, not in fear, but annoyance.

"Where do we stand in your general perception of human intelligence?" He asked, tilting his head to indicate Dave as well as himself. Rodney looked at him, then Dave, and turned back to stare out the window.

"You're not complete idiots," he allowed, and his lips curled a bit at one corner. On Bobby's left Dave nudged his shoulder. It was a victory.

oooOOOooo

Bobby found Rodney by the lake again, Gus lying quietly at the foot of the rock. Red hues from the sun glittered on the waters rippling surface and a bullfrog sang loudly from the forest of lily pads close by. The air was thick with the solitude that Rodney had wrapped around himself and the sheer loneliness of the picture forced Bobby into action.

"Hey kid," he called quietly and walked towards him. Rodney jerked around in surprise, relaxing only when he recognized Bobby. He quickly blinked away the moisture from his eyes and glared.

"What are you doing here?" He snapped, but the edge was lost when his voice cracked and his face blushed red. He turned back to look at the water, and then quickly looked to the trees instead.

"Just taking a walk. Didn't expect to see you up so early," he hedged. Rodney shrugged and kept his eyes on the trees, not saying anything. Bobby moved closer to the waters edge and bent down, picking up a few small rocks. He tossed them, one by one, into the deep. The bullfrog paused its song at the sound and he heard Rodney shifting on his perch.

Gus stood and went to explore somewhere behind them.

"You shouldn't be coming out here alone," he said softly. "Wouldn't want you to fall in and drown," he looked back at Rodney when the kid laughed, a harsh sound that silenced the frog again.

"I won't drown," he stated, his eyes narrowing as he looked back at the water. "It's impossible."

"That a fact?" Bobby asked and Rodney's eyes suddenly went wide, panicked. He looked at Bobby and began stammering.

"I simply mean that I can't…its not that…I won't…I can't swim," he finally got out. "I can't swim, so I won't be going in the water. Ever. So there's no reason to worry about drowning, because I won't. Since I'll never be in the water." He nodded decisively, his panic receding as he looked from Bobby to the water and then to the trees. Rodney wasn't lying, because Rodney had not yet seemed to have learned the art of lying; but he was adept at omitting things. He was omitting something now.

"Want to learn?" Bobby asked and Rodney went as white as a sheet.

"What? No! Of course not! I'm…I'm aquaphobic. That's not something that can be cured by learning how to swim, so no." Rodney began pushing himself off the rock, away from the water. He watched Bobby like he was preparing for him to grab him and throw him in the lake, maybe hold him under the surface and Bobby instinctively held out his hands to show he wasn't a threat.

"Easy Rodney, if you don't want to swim you don't have to. I sure as hell won't make you do anything you don't want to." Rodney stared at him, his feet firmly planted on the ground, before nodding in acceptance. The kid then wrapped his arms around his stomach, a protective reflex he'd had since arriving here, and nodded back at the house.

"I'm going to go back, get some breakfast," he announced and Gus materialized by his side, looking wide-eyed and happy.

"I'll join you."

And that was that.

ooOOoo

Bobby asked Rodney if he wanted to try calling home, maybe speak to his parents, or his sister.

"Jeannie's probably still at camp. She won't get back for another two weeks or so," Rodney answered as he underlined passages in his borrowed physics text book. He paused, frowned, and then crossed something out completely. Bobby didn't say anything about the action, he doubted anyone else in the community would ever look at that book anyway.

"What about your parents?"

"If they need something they'll call."

Bobby tried calling them later, when Rodney was back in his shop. They didn't answer.

ooOOoo

They were sitting around the small campfire and Bobby was trying not to laugh as he watched Rodney and Dave make their smores. They were focused on the task with a single mindedness that was borderline obsessive. Who knew roasting the perfect marshmallow could be turned into a sport? When Rodney huffed and playfully shoved Dave both men laughed more than the action warranted, but Rodney didn't seem to notice.

When Dave casually squeezed Rodney's shoulder and the boy didn't flinch away they considered it another victory.

oooOOOooo

"So what is it that you did, exactly?" Rodney asked around a mouth full of potato salad and Bobby frowned at him.

"You know I don't actually need to see how much you're enjoying your food," he pointed his fork at him. Rodney rolled his eyes and swallowed before continuing his line of questioning.

"Because while I'm sure property value in the great north doesn't carry the same weight as it would around Toronto, it still isn't cheap. Eight hundred hectares? That's approximately," he paused to think for a moment, "nineteen hundred and seventy-six point eight acres. There's no way you can afford anything near this much land off of some layman salary, especially considering that you're too young to retire. So, what did you do?"

Bobby shared a look with Dave and then looked at Rodney, who was waiting expectantly.

"You did that math in your head?"

"Don't try and change the subject," Rodney pointed his fork at Bobby, mimicking his earlier action.

"I developed some things," he vaguely answered.

"Yeah, I figured that out, thanks. What kind of things?"

"Things people needed," Bobby grinned at the kid's exasperation and Rodney turned to Dave for the answer. Dave looked between them and pushed away from the table.

"I'm thirsty. Anyone want anything?" When they both just looked at him he retreated inside.

"Seriously? Come on, what's the big secret?" Rodney needled.

"It's no secret." Bobby took a bite of his grilled fish, caught fresh just that morning.

"Oh, I get it, you just like to keep me guessing. That's real mature."

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Bobby ordered again and Rodney graced him with full disclosure.

oooOOOooo

They lay silently on their lawn chairs, staring up at the sky. Rodney had stopped pointing out the different constellations about an hour ago, intent to just watch the meteor shower with a quiet devotion. For once his stillness wasn't a result of weariness or fear and it was enough to keep Bobby there even though he'd grown bored long before Rodney stopped talking. In the distance the wolves howled; closer to home the horses thundered up and down their paddock.

Dave slept in the chair beside him, the occasional snort the only sound he made.

"They're idiots you know," Rodney's soft voice suddenly carried through the air and Bobby rolled his head to look at him.

"Who?"

"Our family. My parents. Your sister. They're all just a bunch of idiots. The only one with any redeeming qualities is Jeannie and she's seven years old." Bobby could just see Rodney blinking in the darkness.

"That's not a ringing endorsement."

"They don't deserve one. You do realize that I only knew you existed because of conversations I wasn't supposed to hear?" Bobby had assumed as much, but it wasn't exactly something he cared to dwell on.

"That doesn't surprise me."

"It should. You're not stupid and you're not boring, despite the fact that you choose to live out here. If you ask me you made the right choice."

"The right choice?"

"In family. Dave is worth ten times more than the rest of them. Except Jeannie. The fact that they made you choose between him and them proves it. So yeah, you made the right choice. And they're idiots, and if you don't fit their expected format they don't know how to treat you, and instead of trying to understand or accept you they just cut you out and ignore you which is closed minded beyond belief. Especially since it's all their fault." Rodney swallowed thickly and didn't look away from the sky. "I wish I could choose my family like you did."

Bobby had absolutely no idea what to say. He swallowed thickly.

"Rodney, it sounds to me like you already have." Rodney looked at him and frowned. "Your sister," he paused, "Me, Dave. Gus."

"Gus is a dog," Rodney argued.

"You're only discriminating against him because he's not human."

Rodney snorted and they fell into heavy silence for a few minutes.

"Do your parents hurt you, Rodney?" Bobby asked, trying to sound steady as he asked the question. Supportive. Rodney didn't look at him as his eyes filled with tears. He blinked them back rapidly. "Rodney?"

"Please, as if I'd let them get away with something like abuse. They might be idiots, but they wouldn't hurt us like that." He scoffed, trying to pretend the question didn't affect him. "Besides, Mom is always away teaching in the States, and the few weeks a year she is around she's off doing things with Jeannie. And dad, he takes care of us as best as he can but he doesn't have much time for me. He doesn't really know how to relate to me, I guess."

"Because you're different?"

"Sure."

"How are you different?" Bobby asked and Rodney looked at him again, and then blinked slowly. Bobby watched quietly as he saw Rodney suddenly decide that this conversation was getting too heavy. The kid looked away, his shoddy mental barriers coming back into play as he shrugged. He brought up a hand up to push his hair away from his face. It needed to be cut.

"I'm smarter than they know how to deal with," he announced, answering with a truth and sincerity that would probably convince most people. Bobby wasn't most people, but he would accept the answer for now, not wanting to push. Not really having the right to push.

"There's nothing wrong with being exceptionally intelligent," Bobby stated.

"Yeah, I know. Genius here." Rodney sat up. "I'm going to bed, I'll see you in the morning." And he walked quickly back to the house with Gus beating him to the door. When he was inside Bobby closed his eyes and ran a hand over his face. When the warmth of Dave's hand landed on his forearm he grabbed at his fingers and held on tight.

"Being abandoned is just as bad as a beating," Dave said quietly.

"I know," Bobby replied hoarsely. "I know."


	6. Disappear

**Chapter 6: Disappear**

Rodney stood in the shade of the roofs overhang and pretended not to watch the group of boys playing road hockey ten meters away. Their worn running shoes kicked up dirt like disgruntled baseball coaches as they chased around the old tennis ball. They laughed a lot, which would normally make him angry, maybe jealous, but not today. He didn't need to laugh with them today, because he'd laughed that morning with Bobby and Dave at breakfast, and it had been real.

Rodney understood the difference between real and fake laughter.

That didn't mean he didn't want to play. He liked hockey, and he had a killer wrist shot. At home he'd painted targets on the garage door to practice and he was at the point now where the only shot he had trouble aiming almost perfectly was a slap shot. But he didn't have much opportunity to play with other kids, so it didn't really matter.

These guys had asked him to play five minutes ago, and he had instantly turned them down. They looked at him like they wanted to crush him into the gravel they played on, and he had no doubt that they would. The guy that had done the asking was the older brother of the girl he'd made cry a week before, and he looked a little too eager for Rodney to agree to the game. Rodney had better self-preservation instincts than most and knew when to try and disappear into the woodwork. Besides, he couldn't risk getting hurt and needing to go to the hospital over something as stupid as hockey. It was just a stupid sport. A stupid, pointless sport.

"Hey Einstein, you're not going to play?" Bobby asked as he appeared beside him, the leather brim of his hat pulled low over his eyes and a sack of horse treats was tucked under his arm.

"Please," Rodney scoffed, trying to stand a bit taller in his uncles presence. "While I appreciate your attempts at socializing me I have higher standards: like people who can form complete sentences." Some of the boys cheered loudly and Rodney pointedly didn't look at them.

"You spend all this time out here coming up with that one?"

"It was spur of the moment."

"Sure it was." Rodney shrugged and looked back at the boys a moment and then at Bobby.

"Are we done here yet?" He kicked a stone away from them.

"Yeah we're finished, I just need to see Maddy and we'll head on back."

"Okay, I'll go wait at the truck." Rodney pretended he didn't feel Bobby watching him as he walked away but he relaxed when he heard the stores screen door bang shut. He heard the other guys cheering again behind him and he did his best to ignore them. He knew they were having a good time already, they didn't have to keep rubbing it in his face. And yeah, he might have made that one guys sister cry, but she hadn't exactly been nice to him once her mom had left the room and he didn't see why he had to be nice when she didn't. It was two-faced and he hated, hated, hated two-faced people.

He kicked a stick out of his way, almost tripping over it instead, but before he could swear at its attempts to take him down a hand grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. This time he did fall, and the gravel dug sharply into the palms of his hands.

"What? What the heck!" He glared up, and up some more at the person who'd shoved him, not surprised to see 'the brother' and his friends surrounding him, pointing and laughing. He jumped to his feet, not willing to stay down, and instantly hugged himself to protect his sides. Which was a smart move as they reached out and started to shove him around their circle like a pinball. "Stop it! This isn't funny!" He yelled at them, feeling his face turn red when his voice cracked and they laughed some more.

"What isn't funny is you making my little sister cry," the big guy said, grabbing the front of his shirt in both fists.

"I didn't mean to! It's not my fault she can't handle criticism with any integrity!"

"You think this is funny, you little spaz?"

"Actually, I really don't. This is definitely not at all funny. Typical, not unexpected, and maybe a little bit cliché but not at all funny," Rodney vehemently declared and put his hands on the guy's forearms to try and push him off. The guy was fifteen, but Rodney had struggled against bigger and meaner guys than him before. He hadn't won, but that didn't mean he was just going to stand around and let some big jerk think he could-

"Hey! Quit squirming around! You're like a little worm!" The guy laughed and Rodney tried harder to twist out of his grip. Everybody was so damn close and he couldn't get away and he wouldn't. Let. Go.

"Stop touching me!" He yelled and they laughed, their hands reaching out and grabbing his arms, holding him in place… "Stop it!"

"You know, I think someone needs to cool off," he heard the guy say and then Rodney was being dragged somewhere, swept along in their wave. He heard them say he was slippery, like a fish, and they held onto his arms tighter. He heard them laugh and he elbowed one of them in the gut when he got an arm loose, and then they were thinning out around him and his feet were scraping across wood instead of dirt and the ground began to creak and bounce.

They were on the dock.

They were on the dock, surrounded by water and…and…water!

"No! Let me go! Let me go let me go let me go!" He panicked and thrashed.

"Shit! Hold onto him Greg!" Rodney tried to get away, but they _never_ let him go! No matter how many times he told them to, no matter how hard he tried to get away, and they always told him to just cooperate and it would be okay. But it wasn't okay! It never would be okay! How could they possibly think that this was okay?

"Let me go! Stop! Just…please! Don't…"

"Justin! Let him go!" He heard somebody yell in the background, but it was too late. It was always too late and he was tossed off the far end of the dock, right where Dave's plane should have been resting.

The water swallowed him completely and with no hesitation. It just sucked him right in. Two instincts instantly fought each other for domination: The urge to hold the air in his lungs and the urge to take a deep breath of water. He choked as he tried to resist both and water flooded into his nose and mouth, cool and all encompassing. It didn't taste like he remembered.

He instantly stopped thrashing. Noise became muffled and unclear but it was nothing more than a distant concern to the panic he felt. He wanted out. He wanted out and he wanted to stay and it hurt to decide and his chest was pounding and then there was a swoosh rushing his ears and an arm was wrapping around his stomach and pulling him into someone's body, dragging him back to the surface.

The air instantly cooled his skin, the sound of water splashing and harsh breathing filled his ears. He was being held onto, tightly. He coughed, sucked in air instead of water, and grabbed at the arm wildly, pulling at it, digging his nails in.

"Let me go!" he demanded, asked, begged, and he kicked out, connecting.

"Shit! Rodney! It's okay! It's okay, it's Bobby! I'm just going to get you out of the water," the rough voice spoke into his ear, almost too loud and Rodney jerked away, not really hearing it. They just wanted to shove him into another tank, put him in another scanner and hold him down. The tables were always like ice on his bare skin. Their hands always touching when he told them not to. Probing, rubbing, greedy fingers covered in blue and white and yellow latex who never listened to him at all. They shouldn't be touching him like that! He didn't want them anywhere near him! He dug harder into the arm holding him, heard the man holding onto him grunt.

"Rodney! Stop!" He froze instantly at the harsh command. Water splashed his face and swirled around them as the man moved them to the shore and he remained as stiff as a board, waiting to see what would happen. They reached an area shallow enough for the man to walk and he looked at the arm wrapped around his chest and under one armpit as the water line dropped lower and lower. He began to struggle again. He had to get away.

"Rodney? Rodney, please. You're okay, I've got you. I've got you now." The man murmured into his ear. Through the fog of fear Rodney finally recognized the voice and looked at the arm clutching him again. The tanned skin was covered dark hair, a small tattoo of a cross, no more than an inch long, was visible in the space between Rodney's clutching hands. Rodney's nails had dug into the flesh so deeply that he'd gouged out some skin. Little red streaks of blood were winding their way between the hairs, mixing with the water.

Bobby. Bobby had him. He stopped struggling. Bobby scooped him up like a baby and carried him the rest of the way out of the water. Rodney tried to control his breathing, but it wasn't really working. He looked over the man's shoulder and saw the group of boys standing off at a distance, staring. There were some adults there as well, no doubt coming over to see what the freak show had to offer.

Rodney had to get away. Now. He couldn't stay here, it wasn't safe. It was never safe and they would _find out_ and then they'd…they'd…Bobby would stop talking to him. He would look at him like he wished he didn't exist, like mom did. Or he would stop touching him and avoid looking into his eyes like dad. He'd tell Dave what a freak Rodney was and then they'd probably give him back to _them_ the second they didn't know what to do with him anymore. Rodney would have better chances on his own. He had to leave.

The problem was that Bobby hadn't put him down yet.

"Let me go," he demanded, his voice cracking easily after all the yelling but he didn't care. He pulled at Bobby's arm, this time careful not to cut him with his nails, and looked out at the trees and the water. He could disappear into the water until it was dark, but he'd have to go through the woods first so that they wouldn't know where he went. Then he'd steal one of the local cars to get back to a more populated town, maybe with an airport. He'd book a flight with dad's credit card numbers and get out for good. "Put me down and let me go," he demanded again and began to squirm a bit.

"Where are you going to go, Rodney?" Bobby asked gruffly and Rodney ignored the question as his feet touched the ground. He went to pull away, to run away. It wouldn't take too long to get to the trees, and he could slip into the water before they tried to find him, but his uncle's hands were still wrapped around his arms, holding him in place. "Rodney? Where are you going to go?" His uncle asked again.

Rodney's throat felt thick and his vision was blurry from the lake water still running into his eyes. He was surrounded by air and it was becoming difficult to breathe. He just needed to get away. Away from everyone! Everyone and their stupid, prying eyes and their judgements and the way that he knew they would look at him like a freak. And Bobby would hate him, just like his parents did. He would blame him for the reason he and Dave break up, which they would if Rodney stayed in their lives. Mom and dad had. Rodney ruined lives. And other people ruined his and it was best if he just left!

"Let me go," he choked out and tried to pull away. "I have to go."

Bobby didn't reply for a moment and Rodney refused to look up at him, to see if he was looking at Rodney differently now. To see if he knew his secret. Rodney struggled harder to get away.

Then Bobby was sitting down in the dirt and he dragged Rodney to him until Rodney had no choice put to be pulled into his lap. Strong arms wrapped around his shoulders and held him to his chest and Bobby's wet shirt stuck to Rodney's cheek. It took two seconds for Rodney to stop trying to get away, and he twisted so he could hug Bobby easier and bury his face in his shirt.

He didn't want to cry. He wasn't some baby and he hadn't cried since he was six years old unless it _hurt_, because it didn't help. It hadn't helped before and it didn't help now, but he couldn't stop it this time and Bobby was holding him like he was never going to let go. Like it was going to be okay, no matter what. Which was a lie, but it wouldn't hurt to believe it for a few minutes.

Nobody ever hugged Rodney like this.

He held on tighter, and sobbed harder and decided he didn't care anymore. He didn't care. He didn't care if all the boys were pointing and laughing because they didn't matter. He didn't care if his mom was never around, that she wanted nothing to do with him even though this was all her fault. He didn't care that dad was so lost that he couldn't even offer him a hug and tell him things were okay. He didn't care that Jeannie didn't understand why they treated Rodney differently, just that she still loved him. He knew she did, because little kids couldn't lie. He didn't care that he had no friends because he had himself. And Bobby and Dave. And Gus.

Bobby and Dave who had chosen their own family and their own lives even though people told them they were wrong and not normal and freaks. They had taken care of themselves and Rodney could do that too. He felt safe here.

He felt safe.

That was enough.

oooOOOooo

Bobby had watched Rodney carefully the entire ride back to their house. The boy had leaned up against the door, his face pressed to the window and eyes closed, and hadn't moved until Bobby had put the truck into park.

Bobby watched him carefully as he said he was going to go put some clean clothes on and disappeared into his room. And he watched him for a few silent minutes when he later went to check what was taking so long and found Rodney passed right out on top of his sheets, taking up as much of the bed as his thin frame allowed.

He went and poured himself a stiff shot of whisky, and then dumped it down the sink and got a mug of coffee instead. His own clothes were stiff from dried lake water and he doubted his boots would ever be the same after that soaking, and he didn't give a rat's ass.

He couldn't remember a time he had been as scared as he was when he'd seen those kids toss Rodney off the end of the dock, his skinny limbs flailing in the air. All he'd been able to think was 'he can't swim' and when he'd launched himself off the edge of the dock and into the water he had seen Rodney a few feet below the surface, not moving.

He had barely felt the pain as Rodney had literally dug his nails into his arms, but he had noticed it when the boy's foot had connected a little close to the family jewels. All he had thought then was 'thank god he's struggling,' even if he'd only been under water for ten seconds. When the true desperation of the boys struggle had registered, Bobby hadn't known what to do to calm him. Rodney kept looking at the woods as though they answered the question of life itself, and somehow Bobby had understood that if he let Rodney go the boy would disappear. His instincts screamed that Rodney would run and he would never come back and that was unacceptable, so he'd held on.

Rodney had clung to him like he hadn't been held in years and Bobby wanted to tear his sister's arms off, because it was obvious she wasn't using them for anything important. Rodney cried like he'd forgotten how but had been waiting to let the dam break. He shook like he was coming apart and Bobby could only try and hold him together.

The kid hadn't let up for a good fifteen minutes, and it took another ten to calm him down enough to go back to the truck.

Now, standing by his kitchen sink, Bobby heard Dave's truck pull to a stop out front. He listened as the door opened and Gus's nails were clicking on the dark hardwood floor. His tail was wagging as he went off in search of his best friend and then Dave was standing beside Bobby.

"He okay?" He asked softly and Bobby put his mug of coffee down and accepted the offered embrace.

"He'll be fine. Just a couple bruises and a scare. Tired him right out though, he's passed out in his room."

"Maddy reamed the boys out. They barely have any skin left on their hides after the tongue lashing I witnessed."

"It was a stupid thing to do, but they were just being kids." Bobby huffed, pulling away and picking his coffee back up. Dave's hand reached out and turned Bobby's arm over, his fingers gently probing. Bobby hadn't noticed the small bruises yet, they were just beginning to turn colour around the small crescent shaped gouges in his arm. "Boy's stronger than he looks," he said softly and Dave went and made his own cup of coffee.

They stood in Rodney's doorway, watching him sleep with Gus now sitting guard at the end of the bed. The afternoon sunlight blanketed him, making his pale features stand out sharply on the darker sheets.

"I might ask if he wants to stay here," Bobby announced when they were out on the deck, watching the dragonflies dart through the taller grass. Dave took a pull from his beer and leaned further back in his chair.

"Schooling would be an issue, what with his level of knowledge already, but we could manage."

"Yeah," Bobby swallowed thickly, "we could."


	7. Sins of the Mother Failure of the Father

**Chapter 7: Sins of the Mother, Failure of the Father**

Rodney didn't really tell them why he'd freaked out so badly (obviously, he wasn't stupid), and he was relieved when they didn't press him too hard to talk about it. When Bobby offered again to teach him to swim Rodney refused. It wasn't 'swimming,' after all, that had him freaked out. But he couldn't explain that to Bobby, even if he was beginning to really like him. For the first time in his life Rodney wanted to show someone his secret; to believe that they'd accept him anyway. But he wasn't naive or stupid. He was very, very far from it in fact.

He just wanted to have a place where he could be himself, and here, out in the middle of coyote-turd nowhere, he felt as normal as he was probably going to get.

Besides, Bobby and Dave never questioned him when he set off on self-appointed projects or got angry when he pulled things apart to take a look at how they worked. They just helped out where they could. He'd even go as far as saying that they enjoyed his projects as much as he did. The potato canon had been particularly amusing, if pointless. But seriously, who didn't like canons?

"Okay," Rodney pushed out from behind the tv. "Try it now," he ordered and stood back to watch as Bobby turned the set on. Trees and a gravel road appeared on the screen and Rodney grinned to himself. It was rudimentary, sure, but at least it was something. Every home should have a security system, especially when people lived so far from the rest of society. When Rodney had found the giant spool of cable in the shed and remembered the clunky video camera sitting abandoned in his uncles closet it had just seemed like the best use of resources.

"Well," Bobby announced, rubbing at his forehead before pulling his hat down firmly, "it works."

"What? You didn't think it would?" Rodney looked at the man, wondering if he'd seriously thought he couldn't make it, but the guy was smiling at him.

"Never doubted it for a moment, even after you pulled the camera into more pieces than a jigsaw puzzle."

"I couldn't just shove it into a tree," Rodney defended, looking at the table that had all the cameras leftovers lying across it. "I just need the optical feeds and a decent weather proof container. The whole camera would be too obvious anyway. Security systems should be invisible."

"Sure thing Einstein, though what you think we need protecting from I have no idea." Bobby looked at him expectantly, and Rodney realized that he might be waiting for an actual answer. He quickly looked away and changed the subject, far from ready to explain his well-founded paranoia.

He made Bobby promise to keep the tv on at all times. You could never be too careful.

oooOOOooo

Occasionally, when he woke up to go for his early morning walk, he would come back to the house and find Rodney wide eyed and staring. But he wasn't by the lake anymore, curled up on his rock and staring at the water with emotions that Bobby couldn't decipher for the life of him.

Instead the kid was staring at the tv screen, watching the empty gravel road. Most times he was curled up on the couch, hugging a cushion like a shield. Sometimes he'd perched on the coffee table, elbows on his knees, staring intently and twitching when a coon or rabbit startled across the screen.

Occasionally Bobby would find Dave sprawled out on the couch with the boy, close enough to the boy that he could easily reach out to him, and Gus lay sprawled by their feet. On these mornings Rodney looked more relaxed, even sleepy as he slouched in his corner, taking up more room than his small body should have been capable of. They always had a mug of coffee clutched in their hands, one black, one with cream and sugar.

Bobby couldn't help but notice that Rodney had taken to holding his mug the same way as Dave. Whether it was by default or choice, it always made Bobby's voice a little rougher as he greeted them and set up his own mug.

They'd asked him, once, what he was waiting for. He'd looked at Bobby, wide blue eyes vivid on his pale face, and then to Dave. His lips pursed, like he was prepared to tell them, to be honest, and then he pulled back, his sullen look back in place.

"A coyote," he stated instead.

"Really?" Bobby hadn't bothered to soften his disbelief, and Rodney had glared at him as he confirmed that, yes, he was waiting to see a coyote.

A few days later they actually saw five of them scurry across the screen. Bobby refrained from commenting and Rodney pretended it hadn't happened at all. He was quiet for the rest of that day.

oooOOOooo

"So you still have a house in town?" Rodney asked Dave, looking like he didn't quite understand why. Dave looked up briefly from the chainsaw he was working on.

"Yeah." He inspected the teeth, wondering if it was time to sharpen the chain yet. Maybe he'd do that after lunch.

"Why?" Rodney handed Dave the rag before he could ask for it.

"Its closer to the docks."

"But you only fly two or three times a week now, right?" _If that,_ Dave thought to himself. He loved flying, but he no longer felt the urge to do it every day, and a new company had opened up the next town over, which he had been slowly passing his business off to.

"That's right," he answered.

"Then why don't you just sell your place and move in here? It's a waste of money to have two homes." The kid announced.

"Our finances have never been an issue," he said carefully. It was more complicated than that.

"I know."

He looked up at the kid then. Rodney had sharp blue eyes, the kind that at times just sizzled with intelligence. Dave was prepared to explain that Rodney didn't understand. But he stopped when he met the kid's gaze.

Perhaps Rodney did understand this, for whatever reason.

Dave nodded and turned back to his task.

oooOOOooo

It was early on a Sunday afternoon and Bobby was stepping inside to grab a few cold drinks before heading back out to work on the car with Rodney and Dave, when a movement caught his eye. He turned to look at the TV's monitor. A black SUV was crawling by on the screen, followed by another. Bobby frowned as a large van slowly trickled after them and he turned in his boots and went right back outside.

"Dave?" He called, walking across the small expanse to their 'work area.' The man looked over, eyebrow rising in inquiry from beneath his ball cap, a spot of grease smeared across his cheek.

"Yeah?"

"You expecting company today?"

"No," he looked puzzled by the question, which Bobby understood. They rarely had company out here; they'd asked the townsfolk to stay off their land unless it was an emergency and as far as either man knew they had always abided the request. Rodney was the first real guest they'd had in a long time. "Why?"

"Just saw a couple SUV's and a van on the driveway, passing Rodney's camera-" he cut off abruptly as Rodney dropped the tool he was working with, the metal clanging loudly on the engine for a moment before it thudded onto the short grass. The kid looked at him sharply, his skin suddenly bleached under his tan.

"Are you sure?" He snapped, looking towards the driveway where the cars wouldn't appear for another few minutes.

"Yes. Why, what's wrong?" Bobby asked and Rodney whirled about, running into the house without another word. Gus came tearing out from under a tree to chase him and Bobby looked at Dave, before they both quickly followed. They found Rodney in his room stuffing his bag with all of his things, which didn't take long, before hastily making the bed. He grabbed his numerous books off the dresser and ran into the living area, shoving them on Bobby's own bookshelf as if they belonged there.

"Rodney," he snapped, staring hard as the kids fearful eyes looked at him. "What's wrong?"

"I don't have time to explain!" He gushed, his hands pulling at his hair a moment and his bag flung over his shoulder. "But I need to hide!"

"Why?" Bobby forced him to stand still, noting how his eyes darted to the tv a moment before he was lunging to turn it off. Then he was tearing into the survival kit in the closet, pulling out the tiny silver emergency rescue blanket. He closed the kit and shoved it back where it had been.

"Because they're after me."

"Why the hell would they be after you? Is this what you've been waiting for?" Bobby asked. Behind them Dave moved swiftly to the closet and began silently pulling out their hunting rifles. Rodney's eyes widened at the sight even as he tore the blanket from its plastic packaging, shoving the garbage in his bag.

"Look," the kid sucked in a deep breath. "I promise I'll explain when they're gone," his eyes flashed around the room as he thought furiously about something, and then he looked right at Bobby. "They're going to say they're with the government. They'll have official documents and a great story. Don't believe it."

"Rodney, you're talking like a lunatic."

"Please!" His panicked blue eyes filled with tears. "Please, don't tell them I'm here. Tell them I left last week, that someone came and picked me up and you don't know where I am. I'll come back to the house when I know they're gone, just don't let them know I'm here!"

"Okay, okay," Bobby found himself agreeing to the desperate plea, incapable of saying no and Rodney's face flushed red in relief. "But you will explain _everything_ after, am I clear?" Rodney was pale again but he nodded and sprinting out the back door with his bag, ordering Gus to stay behind. Bobby looked at Dave, who had two fully loaded rifles in his hands, ready to defend the kid with whatever it took and it scared the shit out of Bobby. This whole, insane situation did, but he didn't think that guns were the way they had to handle this.

"Put them away," he ordered. Dave took the two steps back to the closet and shoved one back in, closing the door loudly. He kept the other firmly in his hand.

"You should always have one handy for bears. And moose," he shrugged and Bobby sighed. They moved back outside, back to the car that they had all been happily working on only minutes before. There was no sign of Rodney. Anywhere.

"If they ask we'll say the kid was here until about two weeks ago. He freaked out after he was dumped in the water and went home. No one in town has seen him since so they can't say otherwise." Dave nodded and Bobby saw the first vehicle pull up to his house. "Pretend we weren't expecting them," he hissed and ignored Dave's snorted response.

Two men stepped out of the first SUV, one wearing beige khaki's and a button up, the other was decked out in a full black suit and dull blue tie. They looked around slowly, saw Bobby wiping his hands on a rag as he and Dave watched them, and began heading over. Gus stood at Bobby's side and growled deep in his throat.

He rarely growled.

"Gus, behave." Dave ordered, trying to sound friendly as they watched the men approach. Four more people in suits stepped out of the second SUV and stood waiting.

"Something I can help you with?" Bobby asked, finally walking out to meet the approaching men. The one in the suit nodded, his expression serious and his eyes hidden by dark sunglasses.

"Maybe," he pulled out a badge, flashing it for both of them to see. There was a large, still healing burn on the back of his hand, glaring in its new-skin pinkness. "I'm Inspector Gregory, this is Constable Weis. Are you Robert Wardley?"

"I am," he agreed gruffly, looking between them. "What's the problem here? Last I checked I didn't have any issues with the law."

"No, you didn't. I'm sorry to be intruding on your lives like this, sir," the man seemed sincere as he apologized. "We're with child protection under the Ministry of Community and Social Services. It is our understanding that Meredith McKay has been staying with you for the last month and a half?" Constable Weis was looking around as Gregory spoke, his eyes pausing on the house, the shed, the car and the woods. Bobby frowned at them both.

"He was up until about two weeks ago. What's this about? Is the boy in some kind of trouble?" he asked and the Inspector sighed, taking off his sunglasses. A sad look flashed across his face before being smothered with a more neutral gaze.

"We can't provide a lot of detail, but it has come to our awareness that Meredith's parents may have been abusing him. A teacher reported her suspicions at the end of the school year when he disappeared from her class and didn't re-appear. We've been trying to track him down ever since, but his parents haven't been very forth coming. You said he left two weeks ago?"

"Yeah," Bobby announced and didn't articulate any further.

"Why was that?"

"What's it matter? He isn't here," Bobby stood a little stiffer and Dave was suddenly beside him, a firm hand on his shoulder, both comforting and warning. Weis glanced at his hand, and stared a moment.

"Relax Bobby, these men aren't accusing us of mistreating him, they're just trying to find him." Dave looked at the two officers. "There was an incident with the local boys that led to Meredith nearly drowning," he told them and both men looked back at Bobby sharply. Dave's hand tightened on his shoulder.

"Near drowning?" Weis asked harshly and Bobby glared at him.

"He was fine. I jumped in and pulled him out, though with the way the kid avoids the water you'd think he would have dissolved on impact. He can't swim and it shook him up. He had a friend of his dad's come and get him."

"You know who this friend is?"

"Introduced himself as Todd. The kid called him up from the payphone in town, and seemed pretty familiar with him when he arrived so I figured it was safe."

"I see." The inspector put his sunglasses back on. "We're going to have to take a look around before we head out."

"I just told you that Meredith is gone, there's no reason to be looking through my home."

"Yes, I realize that, but procedure is procedure. We have a warrant if that will help with your compliance, but it would be easier for all if you let my team take a look of their own volition." Bobby glared at the man and was satisfied when his jaw visibly tightened under the look. Bobby gestured at the house, an insincere smile on his face.

"Be my guests," he folded his arms across his chest. "Don't break anything."

At a nod from Inspector Weis the four men at the SUV were moving towards the house and another six spilled out of the van and spread out to the surrounding forest. Bobby blinked at the burst of apparently choreographed activity and looked back at the police before him.

"This is a bit excessive for one kid." He stated, and Gregory's face hardened.

"We take cases of child abuse very seriously, Mr. Wardley." He stated and then walked off towards the house.

"You'll have to forgive his abruptness." Weis intoned, eyes following his partner's retreat. "He has a great belief in what he does."

"And you don't?" Dave asked, still standing by Bobby's shoulder.

"I do, I just hide it better." He rubbed away the sweat that was forming along his hairline. "Is there anything you can tell us about Meredith? How did he seem when he arrived here?" Bobby looked at him and shrugged.

"He was quiet. Spent most of his time locked away in his room. I just figured he was mad at his dad for dumping him out in the middle of nowhere. There's not a lot to do here for one kid."

"No," the man agreed, looking at the shed again. "I suppose not. Do you mind if I take a look inside?" and Bobby just shrugged, because there really wasn't all that much he could do to stop him.

They searched for hours, apologizing for the time it was taking but firmly stating that they wouldn't be going anywhere until they were satisfied. Dave had been forced to lock Gus in Rodney's room for fear that he would attack them, and it was hell to act like they knew that the men wouldn't find anything. Bobby had expected them to find Rodney within the first half hour, what with the number of people searching. He was beginning to worry.

Questions on specifics were politely rebuffed and Bobby's patience thinned rapidly. After the first hour he'd demanded to see the warrant and the documentation stating that their search for Rodney was official. They provided them the originals to look at and copies to keep. They told Bobby that Rodney's sister was just fine, that any accusations relating to her abuse had been deemed false. For this reason they assumed Rodney was fine as well, but until they could take Rodney into their custody and speak with him directly the case would remain open.

When they'd watched the well-dressed officers inflating a raft and then dragging it off towards the lake with what looked like sonar equipment, Bobby had almost panicked and blown their cover. Did they think the kid was dead, that they would find his body, bloated beyond recognition and floating at the bottom of the lake? It made him nauseous. Dave had shoved a scalding hot coffee into his hand and pulled him out to sit at the front of the house. It had taken a surprisingly short time before the group had trudged back with their equipment and deflated the boat.

When they finally finished up the dinner hour was upon them. Bobby was ready to accidentally mistake them for a moose and use them for target practice, and he made no show of hiding it.

They hadn't found Rodney, which was good. But it meant the boy was out in the wild, unprotected, and Bobby hadn't been kidding when he'd told the kid that bears and moose and other animals that could tear him apart as easily as tissue paper were out there with him.

When the cops finally left Bobby went to his room and opened his closet. He dragged out the box he had tucked away in the back and began digging through it until he found the specific electronics he was looking for. Then, with Dave standing by the kitchen's window and watching for Rodney's return, Bobby set the radio frequency detector to the ambient level and examined his entire house. He didn't find any bugs or surveillance equipment.

He did the same thing to the truck, the shed, and then the barn and when nothing turned up he was relieved. The last thing he wanted was for those police to suspect him of lying. He didn't need to be spied on in his own home and he sure as hell didn't want them coming back.

Dinner came and passed and Bobby began pacing around on the deck with Dave sitting, his leg bouncing, on the wooden steps. They watched the forest and waited for Rodney to return. His chest was tight with worry and his head throbbed from tension.

He got up and went to search the barn and shed again.

He walked the perimeter of his forest and began calling out for the kid.

He watched as Gus ran around in circles in his own search, disappearing and then reappearing from the woods until he finally went tearing down the path to the lake. Bobby looked at Dave and they both followed him.

Water beetles skimmed the lakes surface, darting in and out of the grasses and lily pads and looking like floating black gems in the open water. The sun was hidden behind the trees now but its pink and orange hues bounced off the few clouds in the sky and reflected off the surface.

Gus was standing by the rock Rodney always sat on and stared out at the water.

After ten minutes he began to whine, a soft little sound that hiccupped through the evening's calm.

Bobby stared at the water and forced his breathing to remain even. After another ten minutes they began yelling again. Rodney didn't show up.

They went back to the house without the dog and Bobby began mentally setting up a grid pattern of the surrounding area and wondering how many people he could get out here to help with the search at this time of night.

Most of them would tell him to wait until morning, because there was no point in getting lost in the dark themselves.

He shouldn't have trusted the kid. He shouldn't have let him just run away like that when the police, or whoever they were, came. He should have made sure that he was safe himself and he wouldn't have let them take the boy away. He wouldn't have-

A heavy thud came from the deck and Bobby was instantly slamming open his porch door, stepping outside with Dave at his shoulder and looking around sharply. Dave had the rifle firmly clutched in his hand.

Rodney stood hunched at the top of the deck stairs. Water dripped out of his hair and his clothes were plastered to his skinny frame. Gus stood possessively by his side and his bag was creating a giant puddle where it rested, the handle still clenched in his fist.

"Jesus Christ, Rodney!" Bobby stepped forward and grabbed him, pulling him in and squeezing the life out of him. His own clothes were soaked instantly. Rodney returned his embrace. Dave put the rifle down on the table. The kid's skin was cold under Bobby's palms.

"Where the hell have you been?" He demanded, holding Rodney out at arms length and looking him over, searching for injuries. He was pale under the decks light and beginning to shake almost violently, but he tried to stand tall, defiance and irritation flashing briefly in his eyes before uncertainty took over.

"Hiding." He shrugged.

"In the lake?" he demanded and Rodney nodded, wrapping his arms around his stomach. Bobby frowned. "You need to get into something warm and dry" he announced and Rodney looked down at his bag. It was just as water logged as the kid. "You'll have to make due with some of my things until we can wash and dry all that," he began leading Rodney to the house and was relieved when the boy offered no resistance.

When Rodney came out of his room, completely swamped in one of Bobby's sweatshirts, the legs of his sweat pants pooling around his ankles, Dave handed him a mug of hot coffee.

He kept forgetting to buy hot chocolate.

Rodney went to the living room and curled up on his end of the couch. Dave went outside, saying something about checking the horses and Bobby parked his rear on the coffee table, right in front of the kid. Then he got up, pulled the blanket from the reclining chair and wrapped it around the kid before sitting on the table again.

He waited in silence and Rodney began to fidget, and then sighed.

"Don't freak out on me, okay?" he asked. Any conversation beginning with those words couldn't be good.

"Why don't you just tell me what's going on," he ordered, his voice rough from yelling for Rodney all evening. The boy didn't look up from his lap, his hair, which needed cutting, fell in strands over his forehead, over his eyes.

"You know mom's a geneticist and biological engineer right?"

"Yes."

"You know she used to work for a company that was experimenting with the genome? Mapping it and finding ways to manipulate certain traits and stuff?"

"You're mother and I haven't spoken much since her graduation, Rodney. She cut me out completely when she found out about Dave."

"Well she seems to be good at that, doesn't she?" Rodney snarled into his drink, bitterness flooding his features before his uncertainty took over again. He looked up at Bobby quickly, a flash of blue eyes, before staring back at his mug. "Well, she was working for this company that was trying to control and manipulate genetic traits from the cellular level, of course." He paused. Bobby waited.

"So when they began discovering how to manipulate genetics to the point of altering a persons body completely, adding in additional traits, they needed embryos to test it on. And mom volunteered." Bobby frowned and looked at Rodney.

"She volunteered when she was pregnant…with you?" he asked slowly.

"Give the man a prize," Rodney huffed a dry laugh that hurt the air around them. Bobby stared at the boy, trying to figure out what he was being told. His sister had participated in genetic manipulation? Experimentation? With Rodney? He swallowed thickly, trying to mask his horror at the thought.

"So the police that were here today?"

"They weren't police, they were a part of the organization mom used to work for," Rodney spit out. "They were pretty convincing though, weren't they? I bet they had all the official documents and hardware and were dressed to the nines like good little agents," he broke off, his eyes widening in thought for a moment before closing off and staring uncertainly at his cup. Bobby stared at him.

"Why were they here, Rodney?"

"What? You seriously haven't figured it out yet? I thought it was obvious!" He hissed angrily, nearly spilling his coffee.

"You promised me the full story," he hedged softly. Rodney glared at him then, his lips pulled back in a nasty snarl.

"Well, maybe I lied."

"No, you didn't," Bobby countered.

"How would you know? You don't know me, you don't know anything about me! You think that because I came and lived here for a few weeks you have the right to know everything! You think I actually believe that you care? That I matter at all to you? I know how this works, _Bobby_." His smile was vicious, alien on his youthful face. "I know all about broken promises and people hating what they don't understand. I know all about lies and how easy they are and I know how to tell them and you don't have any clue! You have no idea!" He snapped and threw the coffee mug, still half full, at the wall. Bobby didn't react at all to the violence, didn't move, and he didn't stop watching Rodney as the boy pulled in on himself.

He waited, gathering his thoughts, burying his own anger so he could do what was right. Say what was needed.

"I'm not pretending to have any idea what you're going through or talking about. But I do know lies and I know about people hating what they don't understand," he said softly. "And I'd like to think that I know you well enough to tell when you're lying to me, and when you made me that promise you were not lying."

Rodney glared at him, looked away, and then glared at him again. His eyes began to water and he blinked the tears back furiously.

"You're going to hate me." He whispered. Bobby had never been a man prone to violence, but right then he wanted to kill something. To mangle it beyond recognition with his bare hands. He took a breath.

"I really don't think that's possible, kid."

"Everybody does."

"Are you categorizing me?" Rodney glared at him, wiped at the tear that had escaped and huffed.

They were silent again, but Bobby only had to wait a few moments.

"I don't really know a whole lot about the technical details," Rodney whispered. "But mom had the 'treatments' when I was just an embryo. Then, after I was born and when other mom's kids started dying she left the company and pretended that she'd never done anything to me. Pretended I was just a normal kid. But when Jeannie was born mom almost died, and she got scared I guess, because she went back to the company with me and let them…let them" he choked a little and took a deep breath. "She let their doctors look at me, to make sure I was okay. They didn't want to give me back. I remember them talking about keeping me, about how it would be easier for them to improve their experiments if they had the only surviving 'experiment' around all the time.

"They weren't…nice." He struggled for the word, and blinked rapidly. "When I got to go home mom said I never had to go back, but we knew I was a freak by then and she started avoiding me, and then her and dad started arguing all the time until she began to take jobs away from home. Dad didn't know how to treat me any more," he angrily wiped away his tears again and didn't once look at Bobby.

Bobby stared.

"You're not a freak, Rodney," he tried and Rodney glared at him.

"Yes, I am."

"Whatever they did to you Rodney, it wasn't your fault."

"I know that! It doesn't change things though, it doesn't make me any more normal."

"What exactly is it that has you thinking you're so different?"

"They just…I…Why couldn't they have given me something useful? Like super strength, or hearing? Or telekenisis? Why couldn't they give me something normal? They tried to give the other embryo's those things! They tried to give them super senses from cats and birds! And muscle reflexes to make them really fast. But not me. Oh no, I got the fish dna. I got to be turned into the creature from the black lagoon! I got to be the freak that can't hide my…my deformities!" He yelled, no longer trying to hide his tears, his face red and body tangled in the blanket and too large clothes.

Bobby stared at him.

"I'm a fish!" Rodney yelled, and then he just stopped. He stopped moving, he stopped talking, he stopped looking at Bobby. He just stopped.

Bobby didn't say anything for a long moment as he processed what the kid was really saying.

Genetic manipulation. Enhanced strength and senses. Alternative methods of breathing.

He'd known his sister had been involved in very advanced areas of her field, and he was aware that the government and the private sector had been experimenting with manipulating the human body to make it stronger, healthier, better. He'd thought they'd still been years away from reaching any kind of practical application. It looks like he'd been wrong.

"You can breathe underwater?" He asked, because he needed to be sure he was understanding this correctly. Rodney dipped his head in a slight nod.

"So this entire day you were hiding at the bottom of my lake?" Rodney shrank further into the seat and nodded again.

"Well, that's the best hiding place I've ever heard of," he decided and Rodney looked up at him, blinking.

"What?"

"They barely searched around the lake. Even with their sonar equipment they seemed to think it was the last place you'd go, which is pretty stupid on their part," Bobby's eyes narrowed, he thought about Rodney's aversion to water, and it seemed that the people this afternoon had been aware of it to. So maybe they had a good reason to not focus heavily on the lake.

If they showed up again…Bobby would make them wish they hadn't.

Rodney stared at him.

"What? You think I'm going to run away screaming because you're a little bit different?"

"Yes."

"Rodney, you haven't done anything wrong. You are not a freak because of what they did to you and you're still the same guy I've gotten to know over the last month and a half. Why the hell would I run away from that?"

"Because that's what people do." He whispered and hugged his knees closer. "If they aren't a part of the company they run away."

"Who else knows?"

"Mom and dad."

"Well, I'm not them." Rodney huffed a strangled laugh at that. Bobby moved beside him on the couch and put his hand on the boys shoulder. Rodney flinched but he didn't move away. And then, without warning he latched onto Bobby like his life depended on it, his still damp hair brushing Bobby's chin.

"I'm not going to abandon you because of this kid. It's not your fault, you are not a freak, and it doesn't make you a bad person." Rodney didn't say anything, he just held on until his tight grip relaxed and his head became heavy on Bobby's chest.

Half an hour after he fell asleep Dave silently approached. He gently picked the boy up and carried him to his room. Rodney was too light for his age, too skinny. They stood in the doorway and stared through the darkness. Gus brushed past Bobby and took his place over Rodney's feet. Dave's warm presence stood at his back, not asking questions.

That night the only ones who slept were Rodney and the dog.


	8. No Problem

**Chapter 8: No Problem**

Rodney looked up from where he sat, the rock cold under his bum and feet, and glanced at Bobby as his uncle emerged from his trail in the forest. He had his cowboy hat on, like always, the worn leather looked darker under the early morning sun. He paused to watch Rodney a moment, like he always did, before he headed over and waved his hand to tell Rodney to scoot over. Rodney quickly did so, but not without a huff of annoyance. Because seriously, there was only so much room on this rock and Rodney was here first, even if he didn't mind the company.

He watched carefully out of the corner of his eye as his uncle perched on the rock's edge, leaving one leg on the ground to support himself. He hunched over slightly, his shoulders rounding automatically and he gave off the warmth of a furnace. Rodney shifted a bit closer, before realising what he was doing and stopping the movement. Just because his uncle was okay with hugging him occasionally didn't mean Rodney could start treating him like a giant heater, snuggling up like some silly little kid just because it was cold.

Then his uncle shifted to get more comfortable, and suddenly his shoulder was pressed to Rodney's and, when he didn't move away, Rodney figured it was okay to stay where he was. There wasn't a lot of room on the rock, after all. And it was a cold morning.

"No surveillance this morning?" The man asked in his usual rough tone, not looking away from the lake. Rodney shrugged. It had been almost two weeks since the organization had come after him here. If they hadn't shown up by now he doubted they would any time soon. And if they did…well, Dave had given Rodney a very strict lecture that he was, under absolutely no circumstances, allowed to touch either of their rifles. Ever. Which meant they must be loaded. Which meant that as long as Rodney was with them, they were going to try and keep him safe.

Rodney snorted to himself bitterly, and ignored Bobby when he turned to look at him a moment before going back to staring at the lake.

They could try and keep him safe, and, at moments, he even believed that they'd be able to help. But like he'd said on several occasions: he wasn't some stupid ten year old. And even though he'd told Bobby his secret, told him all about his deformity, he didn't think Bobby understood. He didn't think Bobby realized exactly how powerful the organization was.

Rodney had seen their files.

They'd thought he was just a regular kid. An average grade student. An unobservant, inattentive, loud, rude, annoying test subject. Well, they were wrong.

There was one computer tech that talked too much about their systems. There were a few scientists that figured he didn't listen as they held him down and…did their little tests. The locks on the doors were all electronic, relying on cards and codes and Rodney had always been very good with any technology he could get his hands on.

They'd sometimes left him unattended, locked up in their labs playing games on their computer. Like it was some kind of treat. Like he wasn't a prisoner. Like it would keep him out of trouble and out of their hair. They assumed that because there were no phones in there he couldn't cause any problems.

Morons.

Rodney obliterated their work. He blew up their labs. He destroyed their fancy computer systems.

He got away.

And his dad had immediately handed him off to Bobby.

He shivered, and hugged his knees tighter to his chest. He felt Bobby shift beside him, and then he was draping his jacket over Rodney's shoulders and Rodney tried to hide his flinch at the unexpected action.

It was achingly warm though, and it smelled like sawdust, molasses, and horses. He didn't look at Bobby and Bobby didn't say anything, but he hugged it closer, pulling it tight around his neck.

Bobby didn't talk about Rodney being a fish. He didn't mention it even once after Rodney told him. And Rodney definitely wasn't going to bring it up again. It had been hard enough the first time. But he saw the man watching him sometimes, quietly. He didn't look angry, or disgusted, and he still met his eyes and treated him like he always had. He still made Rodney get up and clean the horse stalls with him. He'd even threatened to teach Rodney how to ride the other day. Which was just wrong.

Rodney was waiting for him to realize that he wasn't worth keeping around.

He was waiting for the conversation that would send him packing. He figured Bobby would eventually realize what a freak he was.

Rodney pulled the jacket tighter around his shoulders, inhaled deeply.

Yeah, Bobby wasn't an idiot; he would figure it out soon enough. So, for now, Rodney figured he'd take what he could get, and come up with his own plan. He had to protect himself after all.

"You okay there kid?" Bobby suddenly asked and Rodney looked over at him, still pressed close. The sun was higher now, he could see his blue eyes watching him carefully from under the brim of his hat. He wondered what he saw.

"I'm fine," he muttered, and looked back out at the lake pointedly. He felt Bobby's eyes on him a moment longer. Somewhere off in the trees Gus started barking like crazy. Stupid dog. Rodney wouldn't miss him at all when he left.

"Dave's gonna bring the last of his stuff over today," Bobby said after a few minutes. "You gonna help us unload it or are you too busy with that catapult you're building?"

"How much stuff does he own? Seriously, we could fill two houses with everything he's brought over already," Rodney grumbled and Bobby snorted.

"He says he's got some things in this last load that he doesn't want any more, just figures it would be good ammunition for your project."

"Really?" Rodney perked up at that. He wondered if there was anything good to launch. Maybe Bobby would let him take apart some of his rifles bullets and use the gun powder to make it a bit more dramatic… He looked at Bobby carefully, the man looked down at him and quirked his eyes brows, making his hat shift. "Okay, I'll help with the unloading," Rodney agreed and Bobby clapped him on the shoulder before moving to stand.

"Great. Breakfast is in half an hour." He disappeared into the trees, following the path back to the house. Rodney looked out at the lake, watched the steam rising from it in the mornings cool air. He remembered the silence as he had slipped under its surface. It had been hard, he'd held his breath as he tried to go deeper, until he couldn't hold it any more and had to breathe. It had been like he'd remembered from before, when he'd been thrown in: sweet, slightly muddy. It didn't taste sterile or metallic or stale.

He'd wedged himself underneath a tree trunk that must have been in there for years, because he really didn't know how to swim and he had been afraid he'd float to the top. He'd hidden underneath the emergency blanket, hoping it would successfully shield him from the sonar waves.

He'd been alone. It had been dark. Eventually he'd been so cold he could barely stand it.

He'd been terrified.

He'd been at peace.

It had been so different from all the other times he'd been underwater, breathing.

He still didn't know what to think of how he'd felt. He still had no great urge to go back into the water. He still woke up from nightmares where he thought he was going to drown, where he was certain they were going to hold him under forever. Where he woke up to find Bobby, and sometimes Dave, kneeling by his bed and talking to him softly, like he was crazy.

Maybe he was. He didn't know. If he wasn't, maybe he should be. Maybe things would be easier that way. He didn't know what to do.

He still didn't know how to swim.

"Rodney! Get in here while it's hot," his uncle's voice was loud as it carried through the trees. It startled him, and he blinked, not realising he'd been crying again. What a wimp. He scrubbed roughly at his face, and then tried to dry it on his shirt as he walked back to the house. Gus nearly knocked him over as he crashed by, just missing his knee. Rodney scowled after him.

He'd figure things out. He had to.

oooOOOooo

Bobby watched as Rodney poured over the text on nuclear fusion that Dave had brought back from town for him that afternoon. The kid had barely said a word after the rushed 'thanks!' he'd gushed out before parking it in the easy chair. In fact, beyond the 'oh my god, I know what to do!' and 'I'm going to need more books on this' he hadn't said much of anything. Until dinner, when he'd talked non-stop with his mouth full (Bobby had given up on trying to teach him manners, besides, it wasn't his place), explaining everything he'd learned in detail.

Bobby just nodded, knowing the kid was more interested in talking then listening at the moment. He was more animated than usual, his cheeks flushed as he waved his fork around in the air. Dave asked him completely inane questions just to irritate him. Rodney didn't pick up on the subtle teasing immediately, instead berating the man for being a moron. When he had realized what Dave was doing he'd insulted not only his own lineage, but Gus's as well.

Bobby had decided to start on the dishes at that point and stay out of it.

Now Rodney was turning the last page of the text, which Bobby was pretty sure was the reference section, and muttering to himself. Dave nudged him in his side, and he looked over to find the man staring pointedly at the text. Yeah, Bobby understood. Five hundred plus pages of complicated nuclear physics in one afternoon was very far from a joke, despite all the teasing earlier.

And Rodney understood it all, of that they were both certain.

He suddenly clapped the books cover closed and tossed it unceremoniously on the table, where it thudded heavily and knocked the televisions homemade remote control to the floor.

Rodney froze as he looked at it, and then turned sheepish eyes to Bobby.

"Sorry," he muttered, and moved forward to pick it up. His t-shirt rose slightly as he bent forward and he froze, quickly pulling it down before finishing his movement. Bobby pretended he didn't see, and he wouldn't ask to see. He'd wait until the kid was ready, and he was well aware that Rodney might never be ready. That was okay too, so long as the boy knew that he could talk to him when he needed to.

There were times when he still believed Rodney doubted him. Didn't trust either of them. He hoped he was wrong about that, because he would never do anything to hurt this boy. Never.

"You know," Dave said as he casually examined his hand carved chess pieces. "School started last week."

"Yeah," Rodney shrugged and looked at the text he'd just finished. "I know."

"And you're in what grade now?"

"Six," Rodney snorted and leaned back in his seat, his right leg bouncing. Dave leaned forward and turned the heavy text on the coffee table so he could read the title. And then looked at Rodney.

"Only grade six?"

"I was keeping a low profile," Rodney muttered and crossed his arms. "Average kids don't get noticed, don't skip grades. I didn't want to get noticed."

Anger boiled within Bobby. Sadness trumped it.

"But you do realize that you're a little bit more intelligent than the average kid, right?" Dave asked. It was funny hearing him try to hold back the sarcasm and come across as gentle and ending up sounding like a mix of the two. Rodney rolled his eyes at him, at them both.

"Um yeah, I think I realized that back when I was, like, three and had to explain my babysitters math to her."

"Right," Dave fingered the book thoughtfully. "This is a fairly advanced university text."

"Yeah. Dad has a bunch of physics and science texts lying around that I've already looked at. This was a bit more complicated than those ones, but it wasn't too difficult to understand. Actually, I think their section on nuclear decay needs more work, and I'm not entirely convinced they know what they're talking about with the advanced decay, but I need to read more before I can be certain…" He trailed off as he realized that they were both watching him, and he blushed, looking away. "Sorry, I know I get a bit carried away," he muttered.

"Never be sorry," Bobby put his own book aside and waited for the kid to look at him. "Never, you hear? You're a smart kid, Rodney," he ignored the boys grimace at being called a 'kid,' "and there is nothing wrong with that. There's nothing wrong with you at all. You understand?" Rodney nodded, but didn't look up. He didn't believe it, not yet. Hopefully, one day, he'd realize it was the truth.

"You know," Dave announced, breaking the suddenly tense silence. "There's a school, only a forty minute flight from here, give or take a few minutes, that has some classes for advanced students. Friend of mine knows the principal, and I'm pretty sure you'd only need to go three days a week, the rest of your schooling could be done at home." He ran a hand through his thinning hair, he never wore his cap in doors. "If you were interested, I'd be willing to fly you over there those days. It'd be nice to take someone in the plane that wasn't intent on hunting down some creature of the forest." Dave sat still beside Bobby, and Bobby remained just as motionless as they carefully watched Rodney.

It seemed to take an inordinate amount of time for a genius to process what they were saying. Bobby saw the instant he understood. The kid opened and closed his mouth, like he was trying to say something but couldn't get it out. He looked like he had been smacked upside the head with a baseball bat, like he had just been told gravity was a figment of his imagination. For a moment he looked like he thought they might be lying to him, pulling his chain, and then he just stared. Stunned.

"Well?" Bobby asked gruffly and shifted on the couch. "What do you think?"

"I…you want...here with you?" He looked back and forth, not sure who to keep his eyes on. "Really?" Bobby had always considered himself to have a thick exterior, but there was just something about this kid and his wide eyes, the disbelief that anyone could want him around, that made him ache every time.

"Really." He hadn't been this serious about anyone but Dave in his entire life.

"Even though I'm a-"

"Unique." Bobby cut the boy off, and Rodney snapped his mouth shut. Then he looked at Dave.

"Do you know why I'm _unique_?"

"I know you're a pain in my ass," he announced, and then softened his tone. "And I know that you've been through something that you aren't ready to tell me about, and that's fine. I know all I need to know to realize that having you stick around would be worth it. If you ever want to tell me more that's up to you."

"Really?" His voice cracked. He looked back and forth. "But you don't know-"

"It won't matter to him, Rodney. Just like it doesn't matter to me." Bobby declared, and then they waited silently. The distrust fell away. The suspicion was gone. There was nothing but awe and want on his face, naked for them to see.

Then the doubt crept back in, and the sadness, and he started breathing a little heavier and wrapped his arms around himself as he stared hard at the textbook on the table. Bobby sank back in his seat, and felt Dave sag slightly beside him, and as he watched the boy he knew his answer. He couldn't say it didn't hurt, because that would be lying. It just hurt more than he'd expected.

"I…I can't." Rodney stuttered, and looked between them with wide eyes. "You don't know. You don't…I just can't." He uncurled from his seat and vanished into his room, the door closing loudly behind him. Gus jumped up and moved swiftly to the door, staring at it forlornly a moment before lying down.

"Well," Dave ran a hand through his hair and looked at Bobby. "Guess that answers that."

"Guess so." Bobby made to stand, but was halted with a hand on his arm.

"It doesn't mean he doesn't want to stay here Bobby, just that he believes he can't. At least not right now."

Wasn't that the truth of it. Bobby nodded and sat back down. They stared at the university text on the table before them.

"Kids damn smart," he muttered. "Scary smart." He sighed. "If he thinks he's not safe here, then he probably isn't."

"Your feelers aren't finding any information on those men playing cops?"

"None. As far as everyone's concerned they don't exist."

"We can't fight something we can't find." Dave growled and Bobby understood the sentiment. "Might not even be based in Canada," he said thoughtfully. "I'm gonna put out a couple of my own feelers over the border, see what that turns up." He didn't sound hopeful though.

"Sure." Bobby was tired. He thought about going in to check on Rodney, and decided against it. When the kid wanted to be alone he wanted to be alone. Invading his space was a sure fire way of making him more defensive. So it came as a surprise when, less than an hour later, the boy opened the door to his room and meekly sauntered over. He stood before them, wrapped in the sweatshirt Bobby had lent to him two weeks ago that he hadn't given back. He hugged his arms protectively over his stomach.

"Maybe I could come visit? When I've fixed things?" He asked/announced and sounded unsure, like maybe they were going to completely rescind their offer because he'd turned them down. Bobby felt a little of the hollowness in his chest dissipate.

"You can come visit any time you want. Don't need any invitation." Rodney looked up, his relief palpable, and he unclenched his arms a bit.

"Good," he looked around. "That's…good." He stood there a moment, waiting to see what they'd say next and then looked at the tv. "Want to watch a movie?"

Bobby felt Dave relax again beside him, and quirked his lips in a smile, trying to put the kid back at ease.

"What do you have in mind?"

"The Exorcist?"

"Not a chance in hell," Bobby responded and Rodney scowled his displeasure. After he'd shoved his selection in the VCR he looked uncertainly between the couch they sat on, and the easy chair Dave had brought over with him. It didn't take him longer than a moment before he assertively took his corner in the couch, forcing both men to sit closer together to create enough room for him.

Dave grinned, Bobby smirked, and Rodney ignored them both, like it was any other night.

oooOOOooo

Rodney called his dad two days after 'the conversation.' He told him in no uncertain terms that the man was going to come and pick him up from Bobby's so he could go back to school. He was to arrive at the end of the week. He was to be careful.

He didn't mention anything about the men that had come to find him, and he didn't mention Bobby and Dave's offer to stay. He did speak to Jeannie, told her about the horses and asked her how camp had been. He began to look bored thirty seconds into the conversation, but managed to sound interested for a full ten minutes before telling her he had to go and build a treadmill for a dog. At Bobby's look he'd just shrugged and told him she'd believe anything, she was gullible like that.

oooOOOooo

Two days after he'd told his dad he had to pick him up at the end of the week, he filled a horse's water bucket and then stopped and looked over where Bobby was cleaning tack with Dave.

"I need to learn how to swim," he gushed out, sounding breathy and scared and certain. Bobby looked at the kid, saw the determination on his face as he stood there, bangs falling messily over his eyes and he pushed them away in irritation. Bobby was flooded with the profound notion that what he was seeing right now, was who this boy was going to be when he was a man.

"Okay," he agreed easily. Dave looked up between them a moment, and then turned back to piercing a new hole in an old girth.

"Will you teach me?" The boy asked, not realizing that that was what Bobby had just agreed to. Kid was sharp as a tack most days, but sometimes things just flew right over his head.

"Water in the lake's still warm enough. We can go out this afternoon," he adjusted the hat on his head. Rodney nodded quickly, and then rushed back to his task as though the world depended on it.

They didn't get far that afternoon. Rodney refused to go deeper than his waist, his hands stretching the hem of his shirt as he held it down. Bobby just floated patiently on the lakes surface. It had been ages since he'd last been in the water.

The next day Rodney learned the doggy paddle. He splashed around like a spastic seal, and panicked whenever he accidentally brushed up against Bobby. It was tricky teaching him when he refused to let Bobby near, but they worked around it. Dave watched from the shore, holding Gus back from joining them.

The day after that he managed to stay afloat an entire minute without touching down. He grinned like he'd won an Olympic medal. Dave made them steak for dinner and chocolate pudding for dessert.

The day after that Rodney's dad pulled up outside their home in the same car he'd rented the first time, kicking dust up everywhere as he came to a stop. Gus ran around the car barking, and Lyle didn't get out until Dave pulled the dog away. The three men stood there in silence, sizing each other up, and Lyle wiped his hand nervously on his pants.

"Thanks for watching him," he offered, looking around at the trees.

"Sure," Bobby made no offer to shake the man's hand. Instead he stuffed his own in his pockets to try and resist the urge to break his nose. Rodney came flying around the corner of the house on his bike, and nearly fell off he stopped so abruptly. His wide blue eyes stared at his dad, like he couldn't quite believe he was actually there.

"Meredith," his dad greeted, and he looked the boy over quickly from head to toe, making sure he was still in one piece. The relief in his voice was obvious, and his shoulders relaxed a bit as he watched his son. But he made no move to step forward and embrace him, and Rodney slowly slid off his bike.

"Dad," he swallowed thickly, and laid the bike on the ground. Gus went bounding over to him. "I guess I'd better go get my stuff."

"Need a hand?" Dave offered and Rodney shook his head, disappearing inside.

"He looks good," Lyle said softly, green eyes watching the door his boy had disappeared through.

"He better keep looking good," Bobby snarled and the man looked up sharply, startled.

"What are you implying?"

"I'm not implying anything. I'm telling you, very clearly, that he had better continue to look good. Healthy."

"Obviously you've come to your own conclusions," the man glared and Bobby could see some of Rodney in the look. "But I love my son and I will do what I see is best for him. You couldn't possibly understand, Meredith's not some average boy…"

"I don't care what he's not, and I understand more than you think. Now you understand this," he stepped closer to the man and pulled his fists from his pockets. "If you ever feel the need to hand him over to somebody again, you better bring him directly to me. And if he ever goes missing, you sure as hell pick up the phone and call me the moment you realize it." Lyle's eyes flared with temper, but he didn't say anything, and didn't move forward as the door to their home slammed open.

"Finished talking about me?" Rodney asked as he stormed past, opening the back seat of the car and tossing his bag inside. He stared at it a moment and then turned to look at them. Bobby watched him back. Dave took a step forward and dragged the kid into an embrace.

"You'd better call us. You understand?" Rodney nodded as he hugged him back. Behind them Lyle shifted on his feet, clearly uncomfortable with the situation. He watched their interaction carefully, a flash of emotion that Bobby might call sadness flitted across his clean shaven face before it was buried under disinterest. Then Rodney was launching himself at Bobby, his arms wrapping around him and his face pressed into his chest. Bobby clutched him back, one hand ruffling his hair affectionately.

"Yer like a damn octopus," he muttered and the kid snorted into his chest.

"No fish jokes," he huffed, and Bobby squeezed him tighter in apology. They stayed that way for a few minutes, and when the kid made no sign of letting go his dad cleared his throat.

"We've got a plane to catch," he announced. Rodney took a breath and pushed away.

"Right. Well, it's been fun," he gave a little shrug and turned to get in the car.

"Rodney," Bobby called and the kid turned back to him. "Offer's on the table, anytime. Understand?" The kid's eyes widened.

"Yeah," he nodded quickly. "I understand," and he smiled. Bobby stepped forward and dropped his worn, sun warmed hat on the kids head and Rodney immediately pulled it off.

"Ew, germs," he frowned at the hat and made to give it back.

"Keep it," Bobby ordered, and tried not to let his damn eyes tear up like a damn woman. Rodney looked at it and then at him.

"Bit sentimental, isn't it?"

"You sayin' you don't want it?" Bobby raised an eyebrow and Rodney took a step back, clutching the thing to his chest possessively.

"No no, it's fine. Great even. Who knows, a bottle of bleach and it should be sanitary again," he announced and Dave snorted as the kid scrambled into the backseat of the car and closed the door. Lyle eyed them again, before nodding and taking his own seat. As they sped away Rodney twisted in the back seat and waved until they couldn't see him anymore.

Beside them Gus barked.

"He'll be back boy, don't you worry," Dave announced and then looked at Bobby, assessing. "You gonna be okay?"

"Yeah," he said gruffly.

"You sure? It's okay to cry you know." Bobby glared at the man, and stepped right into his personal space.

"Shut up and get the damn keys. I've gotta go buy a new hat."

oooOOOooo

Epilogue

It was late Friday afternoon when the phone rang and Bobby picked the damn thing up, ready to rip into whatever telemarketer was calling them now. The irritated words died instantly on his lips, however, when he recognized the excited voice on the other end.

"The tab on pop cans? Really? All your degrees and aeronautical designs and you get rich developing an easier way for society to drink carbonated beverages?"

"Rodney?" Dave stopped chopping up the carrots and put down the knife, moving to stand beside him. Bobby put the phone on speaker.

"Of course. What, were you expecting some other insanely intelligent genius to call you?" He sounded smug, and it may have been a bit forced, but he also sounded happy, so Bobby let it go for now and shared a grin with Dave. They'd only heard from the kid twice since he'd gone back home three months before. Not a day went by that Bobby didn't worry about him.

"Well, he got the insane bit right anyway," Dave announced his presence.

"Oh, ha, funny. I'd forgotten what a barrel of wit you are," but he didn't sound upset. In fact he sounded giddier then Bobby had ever heard him before. It was a little disconcerting.

"Everything okay Rodney?" He asked carefully and the kid laughed. Actually laughed over the phone, which was something that had been absent the last time they'd spoken with him. He'd sounded miserable then.

"Oh yes. Fine, great even!" He declared, and then, true to form, rushed on. "I sent you a clip of the front page of today's paper. Thought you might be interested. The picture doesn't really do me justice, and the police kind of obscure a part of my body, but my face is clear so all in all I'm pretty happy with it," he announced.

"What!" Bobby began planning their trip to go to kid. If they left immediately Dave could fly up to the GTA. They had a friend who lived on a lake up there where they could land and then borrow her car.

"Oh relax, this is a good thing!" The kid announced and Dave raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

"Maybe you should tell us what's going on," he said slowly, cautiously.

"Oh, sure. I got arrested."

"What!" Bobby said again, and this time he was echoed by Dave. "Why?"

"Oh, it was nothing too serious. I mean sure, I built and then entered an atom bomb in the school fair on Wednesday, but everyone seriously overreacted. It was a non-working model."

Bobby didn't say anything to this, and neither did Dave.

An A-Bomb? Good Christ.

"Hello?" Rodney suddenly sounded a little uncertain on the other end and Bobby rubbed a hand over his mouth.

"An a-bomb?" He asked, just to be sure and Rodney happily agreed. He thought back on the text they had given the kid all those months ago. Did they start this? Christ.

"A non-working model of an a-bomb. Like I have access to plutonium," he defended, as if this were no big deal.

"Christ Rodney. What were you thinking?" He asked, and then frowned. "Or were you not thinking at all? You say the police were there? Were you arrested?"

"More like taken in for questioning," he announced proudly, and Bobby frowned. Dave was looking more thoughtful then worried at this point. "And of course I was thinking. When do I ever not think?" He sounded hurt now.

"Are you okay? And don't lie to me Rodney, we can be there in six, seven hours tops," he said slowly, making sure the kid couldn't mistake his seriousness.

"I'm okay Bobby," Rodney responded quickly, softer then before. Some of the excitement had disappeared from his voice, but he still sounded happy. "Really. Everything is working out just as I'd planned." Which, of course it was, because if someone had the intelligence to build an a-bomb (a ten year old someone at that) and enter it into a school fair then they would have to have been aware of the consequences.

"What happened?" Dave asked.

"They took me in for questioning. I was on the front page of all the major newspapers. I've had reporters banging on the door for the last two days and police guarding the house," he paused, as if preparing for a great reveal, "And CSIS and the FBI interrogated me all day yesterday."

"The FBI? They let the FBI interrogate you?" He could understand CSIS, because that made sense…but the FBI…

"Mom's been working in the Sates for years, and they used that as an in. Just like I'd hoped for." The smugness was still there, but he was quieter now.

"You hoped for? You wanted the FBI to investigate you?"

"And CSIS." Rodney announced.

"And lets not forget that you're front page news," Dave followed up. "Are the Universities knocking at your door yet?"

"I received eight express packages yesterday alone. The school's finally agreed to fast track me and I'm writing pre-requisite exams next week. They're not going to let me go to school right away, they say I'm too young but I'm pretty sure I can get around that. And the FBI seemed pretty interested in my computer skills, so I'm thinking I might be able to swing something out of that in the future."

"Your computer skills?" Dave asked, quirking an eyebrow at Bobby.

"Yeah, I may have cobbled a personal computer together in my room, just a bit of icing on the cake, so to speak." Dave grinned and leaned against the fridge door, thunking his head against it. All at once, Bobby understood. He stared at the phone.

"You're famous," he announced.

"Yep. I really am." The smugness was back in the kid's voice, full force. "Even when the public forgets my face in a few weeks, all the schools are going to remember me, and, more importantly, CSIS and the FBI are going to remember me."

"And they're going to keep a close eye on you," Bobby deduced.

"Close enough that I won't go silently into that good night, and I'll have two governments desperate to find me."

Bobby closed his eyes. The kid really was a genius.

"What about your secret?" He asked. There was a pause on the other end. Bobby could feel Dave's gaze on him.

"I've got it covered," Rodney said. "Really." There was another long pause.

"Rodney?"

"Yeah, still here. I was thinking, and if you don't think it's a good idea you can tell me. Really. But I was thinking that, because _those_ people can't get to me nearly so easily now, especially since an anonymous tip a few months ago has a couple organizations turning over every rock they can to find them, that maybe I could come up and visit you guys? Christmas holidays are coming up, and Jeannie says she wants to spend it with mom in New York, and Dad is being his usual, workaholic self" the kid broke off there a moment. Bobby glared at the phone. He'd hoped the boy's father would have smartened up by now. After everything. "Anyway, I'll have a whole month off after those special exams I mentioned and then I'll be bored out of my mind and I figured since neither of you do anything" Dave rolled his eyes, "that maybe you'd like some company. But like I said, I'd understand if you didn't want-"

"When are your exams over?" Bobby interrupted the kid, and grinned widely at Dave.

"Next Friday," he squeaked through the speakers.

"We'll pick you up Saturday morning. Have your bags packed."

There was a long pause.

"Okay then. That's, that's great!" The relief was obvious, and the nervousness that had been in all his words thus far disappeared. "Of course, I need to make sure Dad's okay with this."

"You leave your father to me. Just have your bags packed."

"Okay, I can do that!"

"And Rodney?" Bobby met Dave's amused gaze. "No more bombs, okay?"

"No problem," he gushed and then hung up.

"No problem, he says," Bobby laughed, and Dave laughed with him. In the morning he'd begin making flight arrangements. For now they had dinner to make.

Outside Gus ran through the thick snow and disappeared into the trees. Bobby watched him go and smiled.

oooOOOooo

End. For now.

**GTA**: Greater Toronto Area

**General interest**: Mikola Kondakow of Thunder Bay, Ontario invented the pull tab version for bottles in 1956 [Canadian patent 476789]. Stay tabs (also called colon tabs) were invented by Daniel F. Cudzik of Reynolds Metals in Richmond, Virginia, in 1975.

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:** Okay, now that that's over, be advised that I hope to have another instalment to the Treading Water universe up within a few weeks (month tops), and this one may (or may not) involve a few explosions, communication difficulties, a city load of injuries, some malfunctions, water (did we see that one coming?), a pissed off/concerned/possibly injured Sheppard, a panicking/injured/possibly lost Rodney, a Grumpy Ronon, Radek trying to keep Sheppard together, Lorne trying to keep everything else together and jelly fish? It will be called "**Lost At Sea**" (Cue music).

I want to give a big THANK YOU (you are all wonderful!) to everyone who took the time to review (with note to everyone who reviewed anonymously that I could not respond to personally), or honour me by placing either myself or this story on your favourites lists. Your feedback was well spoken and very flattering and I shall bask in it every chance I get.

Cheers.


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